


Journeys

by Smediterranea



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smediterranea/pseuds/Smediterranea
Summary: Katara, in her final year of medical school, spends her time studying and working without having very much fun. That might change when she meets another workaholic named Zuko... Modern AU Katara/Zuko, with a sprinkling of the other members of the Gaang throughout.“This tea is delicious,” she says politely.“I didn’t make it,” Zuko says. “I’m not allowed to handle the tea.”“Not allowed?”Zuko flushes and rubs the back of his neck.“I told Uncle Iroh that tea was just hot leaf juice when I was a teenager and he’s never let me handle it since.”
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 237
Kudos: 1628





	1. Tea and Pho

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a one-shot called "Roadtrip," but then I started writing... and now it's like 25K, which is way too long for a one-shot. There will be about five chapters updated once(ish) a week, and, as you might imagine, there will be a roadtrip (eventually).
> 
> Enjoy modern a Med Student!Katara and Computer Science/Tea Shop!Zuko meeting and becoming friends! (Rating will go up for future chapters).

It’s the last patient of the day, and Katara is exhausted. Volunteering at the student-run medical clinic at the hospital is always tiring, but she tries to put on a cheerful smile for the last patient.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she says with a vigor she does not quite feel. “My name is Katara. How are you today?”

“Hello, Miss Katara,” says the old man politely. “I am not quite feeling myself, I must admit, but I am very glad to make your acquaintance.”

She is struck by the man’s polite tone as he gives her a respectful bow from his seated position. His demeanor gives him the air of a man used to a more sophisticated setting than the somewhat dingy clinic, which mostly catered to recent immigrants and down-on-their-luck cases.

Katara has been volunteering at the clinic since she was in her first year of medical school, and although it was certainly a tiring job, it always helped lift her spirits at the end of the day. She herself came from a very rural, isolated community, and it was hard in a big city like Ba Sing Se to feel connected to people. Even the people she did usually interact with — her fellow medical students, hospital staff, and people in the large school library — were usually busy and difficult to get to know. But the clinic was always different. Most of the patients just needed someone to talk to, someone to really listen to them. Of course, they usually required minor medical care as well, but there were plenty of cases of people who just needed reassurance that yes, that mole did look normal.

Katara fills out her evaluation form as she questions the man, who reveals his name to be Iroh Sozin, age sixty. He is jovial and kind, and Katara finds that her smile becomes more and more authentic with each passing minute. He tells her about his beloved nephew, the tea shop he runs, his favorite strategies for pai sho. It is not the most efficient intake session Katara has ever done, but he’s the last patient of the day, and she doesn’t mind lingering in the presence of such a friendly person.

“Do you take any medications?” she asks, checking her form.

“Oh, no,” says Iroh kindly. “I believe tea is the best medicine.”

This triggers something in Katara’s brain.

“What kind of tea?”

Iroh lists a dozen-odd blends, most of them harmless. But some, Katara knows, can have ill effects if taken in too high a dose. If Iroh does have some underlying condition — high blood pressure is Katara’s best bet, given his age and physical condition — it could be exacerbating the issue.

She excuses herself from the interview and goes to fetch the actual resident doctor on staff, filling him in on the way back to Iroh. They re-enter together for a full evaluation.

The doctor suggests several possibilities to Iroh, reassuring him that a blood test will be the first and fastest step. A followup appointment will be scheduled for his results, but the most likely culprits are nothing that cannot be treated or prevented with a minor change in diet or medication.

Iroh shakes the doctor’s hand and turns his attention to Katara.

“I must say, doctor, that I have been to this clinic before and I have never encountered such a thoughtful and thorough student. Thank you, Miss Katara, for taking such good care of me today.”

Katara tries not to flush at the praise, but it’s been a very long day and she feels a little emotional. She’s not sure how much she actually helped Iroh — it wasn’t like she had the power to do much as a recently-turned fourth year medical student — but she appreciates the compliment all the same. It’s nice to feel that she’s helped someone, even in a little way.

She packs up her backpack and bikes home from her shift. She manages to shove some re-heated stir fry into her mouth before passing out on top of her bed. She has no idea that her life has been changed.

—

As autumn begins in earnest, Katara juggles her schoolwork, clinical rotations, volunteering, and social life. Her brother, Sokka, would scoff at her calling an occasional coffee catchup session a true ‘social life,’ but Katara has to squeeze in what she can get.

She’s relieved to be done with her rounds on the neonatal intensive unit, which were interesting but physically and emotionally draining. She tries to rush home, but her bike chain jumps and she spends several angry minutes swearing as she attempts to fix it. She pulls her bike off to the side of the street next to a shop that smells heavenly, which only makes her grumpier. She just wants to go home and sleep but the universe seems to be conspiring against her.

Frustrated almost to tears by her mechanical ineptitude, Katara is about to give up and just walk her bike home when a young man emerges from the shop.

“Need some help?”

Katara blinks up at him. The man is tall and slim, with piercing eyes that flash gold in the setting sunlight. There is an angry scar across the left part of his face that looks like a burn. His body language does not quite match his helpful words; he looks more ready to flee or fight than to help her.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Katara says, embarrassed by her failed attempts with the bicycle. “I can just walk it home.”

The man moves to crouch next to her, seemingly resolved to help despite his initial wariness.

“Can I…?”

He trails off and Katara shrugs. She watches as his nimble fingers pick around the gears, carefully rearranging the chain back onto the metal teeth. He gives the pedals an experimental push and the chain slides noisily around. 

“It should work now,” the man says. “But you need to oil the chain.”

“Thanks,” Katara says, still embarrassed by the state of her bike and herself. She goes to grab the handlebars when a smaller, older man pops out of the shop.

“Zuko, what are you — oh! Miss Katara!”

Katara blinks. It takes a moment for her to recognize him, but the memory jumps back at her. Iroh, from the clinic a few weeks before.

“It is very nice to see you again, Miss Katara!” Iroh says with a bow. “Please, if you are not in a hurry, you must come in for tea. I insist.”

Katara wants to protest, but her stomach gives an audible growl. The young man next to her tries not to laugh and Katara feels her face flush red.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to…” she tries to begin.

“Please, please!” Iroh says, waving her inside. “My nephew can put your bike in the back with his own. Zuko, this is the very nice young doctor I saw at the clinic.”

Zuko gives her a curt nod and disappears, wheeling her bike into a back alley. Katara is ushered into the tea shop, which smells even more wonderful inside. Iroh moves quickly through the customers to bring her some fresh tea and a pile of pastries. She tries again to protest, but Iroh will have none of it.

“I know they do no pay you at that clinic,” he says, wagging a finger. “You must allow me to offer a young doctor some food so that you may continue your excellent work!”

Katara’s throat feels tight with emotion, and she is glad when Iroh turns his attention to other customers. She sips her tea slowly for a few minutes before Zuko emerges from the back.

“I oiled your chain,” he says in a rasping voice. “Just so you know.”

“Thanks,” she says, smiling. “I’m useless with bikes.”

Zuko nods, looking a bit awkward. Katara tries not to laugh; Iroh is so friendly and talkative, it seems strange that his nephew is so shy.

“Do you work here with your uncle?” she asks. She knows she should probably let him do his job, but it’s been hours since she’s had a non-work related conversation, and she’s feeling a little starved for attention.

“On weekends,” Zuko says.

“What do you do during the week?”

“I’m a software engineer,” he says without enthusiasm.

“Do you like it?”

He shrugs.

“It pays the bills.”

An awkward silence descends. Zuko wanders off to help some customers, but returns a few minutes later with Iroh.

“Please, nephew,” Iroh says with a twinkle in his eye. “I must take care of a few last customers. You should talk with Miss Katara. I’m sure two bright young people such as yourselves have much in common.”

Iroh gives Zuko a pointed look, which makes him flush. Iroh returns to the kitchens and Katara can’t help her giggles.

“Is he always like this?” she says, smiling at Zuko.

Zuko’s lips twist slightly in amusement.

“Yes,” he admits. “I don’t think he realizes people come here to talk to him, not to me.”

Katara pushes the plate of pastries towards him, nodding her head.

“Please, I don’t want to offend your uncle, and I don’t think I can finish all of these by myself.”

Zuko hesitates for a moment, but grabs a pastry with a muffled thanks. They descend back into silence, but it’s a little less uncomfortable given their preoccupation with their food. 

“This tea is delicious,” she says politely.

“I didn’t make it,” Zuko says. “I’m not allowed to handle the tea.”

“Not allowed?”

Zuko flushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“I told Uncle Iroh that tea was just hot leaf juice when I was a teenager and he’s never let me handle it since.”

Katara lets out a peal of laughter. Zuko looks surprised but pleased at this reaction. When her laughter subsides, she takes another sip and smiles at Zuko, whose cheeks are faintly pink.

“So you’ve been working here for a long time?”

“Yeah, I live here actually. Well, not _here_ here, but above the shop,” he says, pointing upwards. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” she says, thinking of how delicious their apartment must smell all the time. “Does the rest of your family live with you, too?”

Zuko’s expression darkens, and Katara immediately recognizes she’s said the wrong thing. 

“No, it’s just me and my uncle,” he says. 

His voice sounds sad, but there is some coldness in his expression, and Katara wonders at the story behind it. However, she decides to deflect; she’s just here to enjoy some tea, not interrogate her former patient’s family dynamics.

“Are you from Ba Sing Se originally?”

This causes Zuko to glower even more, and Katara regrets not just sticking to talking about the weather or something less personal.

“No,” Zuko says curtly. “I’m from Caldera City. I moved here when I was fifteen.”

“I’m going to Caldera City in a few weeks,” she says with some hesitancy. “Any tips?”

Again, this is the wrong thing to say, because Zuko slumps a little, looking defeated.

“I haven’t been back since I left,” he says quietly. “But there are some really nice parks if you like that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” she says softly. 

She can’t think of what else to say to rescue this disastrous conversation, but fortunately Iroh swoops by to refill their pastries.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t…”

“Please, Miss Katara, I insist. It is not often that my nephew takes a break from working. I must feed him as well.”

Zuko lets out a quiet groan.

“Uncle, please, I’m _fine_.”

“Zuko is very skilled with bicycles,” Iroh continues, ignoring his nephew. “I’m glad to see he could help you with yours.”

“Yes, that was really nice of you,” Katara says, turning to Zuko. 

This seems like safer territory to discuss, and Iroh bustles away to take the last orders before closing. Zuko shifts in his seat, giving Katara a questioning look.

“You’ve got a pretty cool old bike,” he says. “Where did you get it?”

“My ex,” she says, proud of herself for not wincing too much at the reminder. “He’s a great cyclist. He’s got like eight bikes at his place. I usually prefer walking, but he got me a bike so we could go places faster.”

The gift of the bicycle had been a little more romantic when Aang had presented it to her, but when she said it out loud, it made it seem like he had just been annoyed at her slow pace. She supposed both things could be true: that he loved her and that he didn’t want to wait for her. It was, in the end, why they had broken up. She had wanted to pursue her career, a long road of medical training, and he had not wanted to wait and be tied down. An absence of love had never been the issue, only the absence of patience.

She catches Zuko’s curious expression, and realizes that now she is the one whose melancholy mood is making things awkward. She shakes thoughts of Aang away and focuses on the man in front of her.

“Do you road bike or mountain bike?”

This sparks a pleasant enough conversation about the local bike scene, and eventually leads to a discussion of how the drivers of Ba Sing Se were total jerks to cyclists, something they both ardently agree upon. By the time Iroh swings around again, the conversation flows much more easily.

Iroh asks her a dozen questions about her life — are they working her too hard at school? Does she have time to see her friends and family? Where is she from and does she know people in Ba Sing Se? — while Zuko looks faintly embarrassed by his uncle’s curiosity. Eventually, the last customer leaves and Katara stands to head home. She fights with Iroh about paying the check, and only caves when he promises that she can pay full price the next time she visits.

“Don’t count on it,” Zuko whispers as his uncle is distracted. “He’s just saying that so you’ll come back again — he’s never going to let you pay.”

Zuko goes to fetch her bike and she waves goodbye as she sets off. The pedals move smoothly as she pushes; the oil Zuko had used had been very much needed. 

She resolves to go back to the shop again the following weekend when she’s recovered a bit from her brutal work schedule. She could go during the week now that her rounds are finished, but she reasons that it would be best to go when both Zuko and Iroh were present. That way one of them could talk to her while the other worked. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Zuko was quite handsome, and that he had let her eat all of the sesame-flavored pastries after he noticed she liked them the best. No, this was purely to connect with new people, not to share dessert with cute boys.

—

The tea shop becomes a weekend habit, and she comes to a compromise with Iroh. She pays full price for her tea, but Iroh lets her eat whatever leftover pastries he can’t sell by the end of the day. She usually shares them with Zuko, although he always claims not to be hungry when her favorite sesame buns are all that remains.

When the shop is particularly busy, she uses the time to study. The second step of her medical licensing exam isn’t until March, but she figures it doesn’t hurt to start early. Sometimes the crowd dies down and Iroh insists Zuko entertain her, but they usually work together in silence, Zuko tapping away on his laptop. When he starts looking miserable, she is the one to distract him from his work. He doesn’t seem to enjoy his workplace very much, and Katara wants to ask several times why he doesn’t just quit, but she bites her tongue. Zuko seems like a very private man, so she waits to draw him out of his shell. It’s slow process, and it’s hard to tell if she is making any progress in becoming his friend.

Winter descends upon Ba Sing Se, and with it comes a frost that ices over the roads. Katara, exhausted after a long day at work, doesn’t notice until too late, and wipes out on her bike. She manages to shield herself in the fall and ends up with only a few bruises, but something goes wrong with her bike, and she can barely get it to move forward. The next weekend, she walks it over to the tea shop.

“Can you fix it?” she asks Zuko. “I can pay you back for parts or whatever, but I don’t even know what’s wrong with it, and the bike shop near me just closed.”

“Sure,” Zuko says, bending to inspect the bike. “But it might take me a few days. Do you have a way to get around?” 

“I have a car,” she says. “I usually bike because the hospital parking pass is crazy expensive, but I should be able to park on the street for a few days. There’s no rush, and if you don’t want to fix it, or if you don’t have time...”

“It’s cool, I’m happy to fix it,” Zuko says with a wave of his hand.

“Thanks, Zuko!”

Before she leaves, Zuko sidles up to her table, pulling out his phone.

“I can text you when I’m done if you give me your number,” he explains.

She tries not to get too excited about this development. She’s pretty sure it doesn’t count as giving out your number to a cute guy if he’s only going to use it to text about bicycle-related topics.

Sure enough, Zuko shoots her a message three days later that her bike is fixed. She drives over after work to find the tea shop closed; Iroh shuts the shop early most weekdays. Zuko helps her cram her bike in the trunk of her beat-up Subaru. Katara thanks him profusely, which he waves off.

“It was fun,” he says.

Katara eyes him skeptically. She can sense that Zuko, like his uncle, will refuse payment even though she can tell that some of her bike parts look shiny and new.

“I’m starving,” she says, peering down the street. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Zuko looks a little surprised, but he nods.

“There’s a pho place on the corner that’s pretty good,” he suggests.

They set off, and Katara spots a small number of people waiting outside. She hangs back, wondering if perhaps they should try someplace less crowded, but Zuko seems undeterred and heads inside. She follows him to find a smiling hostess already ushering him to two empty seats at the bar.

“Did we just skip that line of people?” Katara asks, incredulous.

Zuko shifts uncomfortably on his stool.

“Yeah, uh… Uncle and I get takeout here a lot.”

A waitress materializes next to them, quickly taking their orders. Katara barely has time to glance at a menu, so she just orders the same thing as Zuko, trusting his judgement. The restaurant staff all give him curious looks, which he seems determined to ignore.

“Zuko!” An older woman in her mid-sixties emerges from the kitchen. “They told me you were here with a girl, and I had to see it for myself!”

Zuko flushes bright red, and glares at the woman, but she ignores him and turns to Katara.

“And who might you be?” she asks kindly.

“I’m Katara.”

“Oh!” The woman’s smile increases. “I know about you! Iroh told me if I went to the medical clinic to ask for a very nice young doctor with your name. He says you are an excellent listener.”

Now it is Katara’s turn to blush. Zuko bites his lip as if holding back laughter.

“Well, Zuko,” the woman says, rounding on him again. “You must come back here more often with your friend. You both could use some feeding!”

The waitress returns with two huge, steaming bowls of soup, and Katara and Zuko are left alone for their meals. They both dig in immediately, avoiding eye contact.

Halfway through her bowl, Katara starts to resent the silence. She wishes she felt less awkward talking to Zuko. They had known each other for weeks, but she still always felt on the precipice of saying something that would upset him. She suspects that he has had a complicated past, but without knowing more about him, she can’t quite figure out which topics to avoid. Fortunately, Zuko has opened up enough that he asks Katara about herself, and she’s usually more than happy to answer. He seems interested in what she has to say, and sometimes her responses will prompt him to share a bit about his own life. But it’s still a lopsided conversation, and she wonders if it’s possible to actually become friends with someone so closed off.

“Are you going home for the holidays?”

Zuko’s words startle her from her contemplation. She inelegantly swallows a mouthful of noodles before answering.

“Yeah, for a bit,” she says. “It’s probably the last holiday break I’ll get in a long time, so I’m going to take advantage.”

“I bet your family will be happy to see you.”

“Yeah, Sokka — that’s my brother — told me he and my dad have a bet going, and the winner gets to pick me up from the airport. Why they can’t _both_ come to the airport is a bit of a mystery, but I figure it’s some macho, guy-competition thing.”

“Your mom doesn’t get the chance to come pick you up?”

Katara’s heart squeezes. She realizes that Zuko is not the only one with a complicated past.

“My mom passed away when I was eleven,” she says quietly.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

It’s been long enough that she can usually talk about her mother, but she feels caught off guard. A wave of grief has knocked her sideways, and she struggles to right herself.

“I lost my mom when I was thirteen.”

Katara blinks, turning to stare at Zuko. He is gazing forlornly into his soup, and her heart twists. The pain in his expression is more than familiar to her.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she says. Without thinking, she reaches out a hand to touch his arm. “I know how hard that must have been.”

Zuko turns to look at her, a curious expression on his face, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was hard.” He takes a deep breath, as if to steel himself. “She died in a car crash,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

Katara cannot resist, and moves her hand down to cover his, squeezing a little. He squeezes back and grimaces.

“What about your mom?” he asks softly.

“Breast cancer.”

He winces a bit in sympathy and squeezes her hand again.

“I’m sorry. That must have been rough.”

Katara sighs, taking back her hand to stir the remains of her soup. The loud atmosphere of the pho shop seems to fade away, like only she and Zuko exist in their cloud of grief.

“Did you always want to be a doctor?” Zuko asks.

“Yes, even before my mom…but yeah, that kind of solidified it.”

“I guess I never asked,” he says a little sheepishly, “what kind of medicine you want to practice.”

“Well, for a long time I was dead set on oncology. I wanted to stop what happened to my mom from happening to other families. But then… I don’t know, cancer is an important field, but there were so many other problems at home. Where I grew up, no one had good access to basic medical care, let alone a decent oncologist. I know I could do a lot of good specializing in oncology, but it just doesn’t call to me as much as family medicine and pediatrics.”

“That makes sense,” Zuko says, nodding absently. “Treat the whole family unit, maybe do some preventative care.”

“Exactly,” Katara says, relieved to be understood. She had waged her own battle deciding what to study for years; it feels good to have someone else agree with her decision. 

She wants to keep the conversation going, but, as usual, feels some trepidation about saying the wrong thing. She takes a deep breath a throws caution to the wind. If she and Zuko are going to be friends, they need to be able to speak honestly to each other, and Katara is done dancing around, trying to avoid topics.

“Why did you decide to be a software engineer?”

As expected, Zuko’s face darkens, but after weeks of trying to pry him open, he finally cracks.

“That was always the plan.”

“The plan?”

“My dad wanted me to be good with computers. He said they were the future, and in order to follow in his footsteps, I needed to study computer science.”

Katara tries not to slurp her soup too loudly and break this fragile moment. Zuko had never mentioned any of his family before now, and she was loathe to interrupt what was obviously a painful confession.

“My little sister was always better than me. Azula. She was the talented one. I was fine, but I wasn’t her. She could write lines of code in her sleep, invent all sorts of crazy stuff. But I wanted to prove to my dad that I could live up to my potential. Even after I… after I left… I still felt like I _had_ to do it. Just to prove that I could.”

“Do you like it? Coding, I mean.”

“Yeah, most of the time. My boss right now is a total dick,” he adds with disdain. “But the coding itself is alright. Just wish I had a better project to work on.”

“Have you thought about leaving? Going somewhere else?”

“There’s not that many good tech places in Ba Sing Se right now,” he says hesitantly. “It’s all back in Caldera City.”

“And you don’t want to go back?”

“It’s complicated.”

Katara is ready to drop the subject — she feels like she has pushed Zuko to speak more than enough — but Zuko surprises her.

“I left because of my dad. He’s the one who did this,” he says, pointing at his scarred face.

Katara can feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets in horror. She’s grateful Zuko is staring at his soup and can’t see her expression before she schools it into something more composed.

“Zuko, that’s… that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“It took me a long time to admit what kind of man he really was. He’s the reason my mom is gone, too. He was the one driving the car. He was drunk. He walked away without a scratch, but my mom—”

Zuko’s voice cracks and bit, and Katara feels her stomach drop like a lead weight. She had guessed that Zuko had suffered, but she had certainly not imagined _this_.

“Anyway, I’ve always wanted to go back, but I couldn’t make myself. I knew there was no way I’d run into him, but I couldn’t risk it. He’s been in jail for the past year for embezzlement. Oh yeah—“ he says, an ironic smile twisting his lips at Katara’s stunned expression— “he’s a piece of work. An abusive, alcoholic crook. Really just the pinnacle of father figures.”

It’s not really funny, but Katara gives a snort of laughter and Zuko’s smile softens into something sadder, but more genuine.

“The truth is, I don’t know if I _can_ go back. It would mean leaving Uncle Iroh behind, and after everything he’s done for me…”

“I’m sure he would understand if it was something you really wanted,” Katara says. “He cares about you so much.”

“I know,” Zuko says sadly. “I used to be a real shit to him.”

“You said you left home at fifteen, right? All fifteen-year-olds are kind of shitty.”

Zuko gives a little rasp of laughter.

“Yeah… but I was really bad. We didn’t come to Ba Sing Se right away, actually. We moved around a lot — I kept getting expelled from school.”

“Why were you expelled?”

“I would hack into the school’s database and mess stuff up. Just to prove that I was smarter than them, or just because I was mad at someone and wanted to give them all F’s. That sort of thing. It was really stupid, but it caused my uncle a lot of grief.”

“I’m sure he forgives you, Zuko. You were young and in a lot of pain.”

“You were young and it a lot of pain, too,” he says, looking curiously at her. “But I bet you didn’t edit the yearbook so that everyone’s last name was ‘Penis’.”

Katara snorts soup straight out of her nose. Zuko chokes on his own spit laughing. She glares at him as he hands her an extra napkin to clean herself up. She can’t keep up the charade of annoyance for long, however.

“Did you really do that?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says, a grin pulling at his lips. “Right before they sent it out for printing, so they couldn’t change it. And no one noticed until too late.”

Katara laughs again, loud and bright.

“Yeah, I definitely didn’t get in trouble like that,” she says.

“I bet you never got into trouble at all.”

“No, I didn’t,” Katara says with a sigh. “I kind of went in the opposite direction. I felt like I had to be perfect, like I had to be good all the time. Every time I did something nice or helped someone, they would tell me how much I was like my mom. So I just kept doing it.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve always been really good at putting pressure on myself,” Katara says with a humorless laugh.

The both fall silent, staring into their soup bowls. The waitress comes by to give them the check and Katara wrestles it out of Zuko’s hands.

“For fixing my bike,” she explains.

“Katara…”

“Fine. How about we agree that I pay this time and you’ll pay next time?”

“Next time?”

Katara can feel herself blushing a little, but she squares her chin determinedly.

“Yes, next time. That’s what friends do, right? Go get pho together.”

A ghost of a smile crosses Zuko’s face.

“Thanks, Katara.”

“My pleasure.”


	2. Campfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you need a distraction from the world today? Here's a distraction from the world.

She sees Zuko and Iroh a few times before she heads home for the holidays. She’s happy to find that Zuko seems a little more open and friendly with her. She even cajoles him into getting pho with her again, and he suggests that next time they try a place closer to her side of town to compare. The promise of another night out with him makes her feel warm inside.

Before they can make good on their plans, the holidays arrive and Katara flies home. Sokka has won the bet to come pick her up, and they drive the three hours back to the reservation. 

Each time Katara returns, it twists her heart to see the poverty of her home. She had once traveled with Sokka to visit their sister tribe in the north, and it had been hard not to feel bitterness at how much her people had suffered. The colonizers had ravaged her home and driven her people off of their native lands, and now they were left to fend for themselves.

It was a conflict Katara had struggled with since leaving the reservation for college: should she return to help her people, or leave to make a better life for herself? In his own way, Sokka was doing both. He had gotten a good education in political science, and now was back home working with local leaders and the government to improve the lives of the native Southern Water Tribe. He had made connections at university with students from all over the country, and now he could get support from agencies in Gaoling, Caldera City, and Kyoshi. 

Kyoshi had been a particularly beneficial connection; Sokka had fallen hard for a civil liberties law student named Suki and now he had a bad-ass civil liberties lawyer for a girlfriend. The distance was hard, as finding permanent employment on the reservation was always difficult, but Katara was impressed at how her brother was handling it. Every time he mentioned Suki’s name, his eyes lit up and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Katara was happy for her brother.

As they drive south, Sokka ribs Katara good-naturedly about her life in the ‘big city.’

“Please tell me you’re having _some_ fun,” Sokka says.

“I am!”

Sokka raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“Well, I am _sometimes_. You know how crazy my schedule is. But I have a new de-stress routine.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Every Saturday evening, I go to this tea shop near the hospital. It’s really nice; I met the owner at the clinic where I volunteer.”

“And do you actually relax at this tea shop, or is it just another place to do work?”

Katara grimaces; Sokka knows her too well sometimes.

“Okay, fine, I work sometimes. But not all the time! I made friends with the owner’s nephew, Zuko. I don’t work if he’s around to talk to.”

“Hmm, Zuko, you say?”

“It’s not like that,” Katara says, rolling her eyes. “We’re friends. You’re the one always bugging me to get out of the hospital and meet new people.”

“Alright, alright!” Sokka says, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’m glad you made a new friend. And for the record, I would be cool with you having a boyfriend as long as it wasn’t someone like Jet.”

Katara groans.

“Sokka, that was _years_ ago.”

“Yeah, and I’m never going let you forget how terrible your taste in men is.”

She gives Sokka a light punch on the arm and he grins. She tries to look annoyed, but she’s too happy to see her brother again to stay angry.

Sokka is right; Katara hasn’t had a great track record with boyfriends. She’s had three serious ones: Jet, Haru, and Aang. Jet was obviously a bad idea, but she had been so excited to get to university and finally meet people she hadn’t known her whole life that she had pushed past some of the warning signs. Plus — and she would never, _ever_ admit this to Sokka — Jet had been fantastic in bed. She had let the relationship last way too long, and finally kicked him to the curb after he had cheated on her for what she suspected was not the first time. 

Haru had been an overcorrection in the other direction. He was sweet and funny, but there had been barely any spark. Katara had figured that if her relationship with Jet had been bad, searching for the opposite kind of man would be good. But that had fizzled out too; there had been no passion keeping them together.

Aang had been Katara’s first real love, and even Sokka had agreed that Aang had been more than worthy of being her boyfriend. Aang was an exemplary person in many regards: a child prodigy who had graduated high school at 16, and a gifted athlete. He had a wiry frame that perfectly suited cycling, and as he aged and bulked up a little, he had transitioned to mountain biking. Katara had loved watching Aang race. It was like he was flying down the hill, a swirling cloud of dust in his wake. She had gotten him into swimming — her favorite sport — and he had quickly mastered each stroke. Aang was never boastful about his gifts, but eager to share in new activities with new friends.

Aang had pursued Katara for a while before she agreed to go out with him. She had been hesitant to jump back into dating after the Jet and Haru fiascos, but it had allowed them time to become friends first. They had been together for two years in school — although Aang had started college the year after her, he had finished a year early, another example of his prodigious intellect — and for another year after that. They had wandered the country together like nomads. They hadn’t noticed the wedge slowly being driven between them until it was too late. Katara had applied to medical school during their travels and had always intended for it to be just a gap year; Aang had thought she was merely seeing if medical school was a good fit and thought he might convince her that a less traditional path was right for them. They had loved each other, but they had different goals and values. 

The breakup had been brutal, and it had taken them almost two years to become actual friends again. Katara was glad for Aang’s friendship now, but the rift between them for so long made her even more skittish about dating again. The idea of pursuing something more than friendship with Zuko did hold some appeal, but the risk was just too high.

To distract herself from this melancholy mood, Katara changes the conversation to catch up on the gossip of her hometown, and Sokka is more than happy to fill her in. Katara slumps back again the seat of the truck, watching the arid landscape fly past.

It’s a relief to spend some time with Sokka and her dad, away from the chaos of school. She tells them about her interviews for various residency programs, and they tell her about the improvements being made around the reservation. Katara’s heart twists to think that she is not pulling her weight to help her people. 

On her last night at home, as she slips into her usual worries, her father places a kind hand on her shoulder.

“We are so proud of you, Katara,” he says in his deep, comforting voice. “No matter where you are, you make us proud. And you have inspired so many young people here — never think that you have not made the right choice.”

Katara’s lip trembles and her father pulls her into a hug. It’s been a long time since she’s had a cathartic cry, but everything comes out: how much she misses her family, how much she wishes her mother could be there with them, how much she wants to do good in the world without knowing if she can do it. Her father strokes her hair like he had when she was little, and when they pull away, his eyes are wet, too. They smile at each other and, hearing Sokka loudly swear from the other room as he drops something, they both laugh.

She feels a lightness as she returns to Ba Sing Se, refreshed and restored. The feeling is short-lived; her next rotation involves night shifts for three weeks.

A week and a half into her rotation, she finishes a set of her rounds and pops into a break room. She pulls out her phone, not expecting any messages at 3AM, but is surprised to find someone has texted her.

_Z: Hey, it’s Zuko. Uncle is convinced you’ve fallen into the Ba Sing Se sewer system and disappeared. He knows I have your number and wanted me to check on you._

She bites her lip to keep from laughing. Missing her weekly trips to the tea shop is one of the many annoying things about night shift.

_K: Hey! Sorry I haven’t been around. I’m working nights for the next week and a half 😭 I’m starting to forget what the sun looks like. Tell Iroh I’ll be back soon!! How are you?_

Unsurprisingly, she receives no response before her shift ends at 6AM, for which she is grateful. She knows that sometimes Zuko pulls crazy late hours at his job, and she takes his silence as an encouraging sign that he is sleeping like a normal person for once.

She gets home and waves to her roommate — who has the good fortune to be working the day shift — before she crawls into bed and falls asleep. When she wakes late in the afternoon, the winter sun has already dipped below the horizon. She grabs her phone to skim through the news as she eats her 5PM breakfast. A notification of a new text catches her eye and she opens it to a picture of a glorious midday sun.

_Z: In case you forgot._

She’s not sure if it’s the picture proof of the still-existent sun that makes her feel warm, but she finds herself smiling as she heads over to the hospital. 

Over the last week of her night shifts, Zuko texts her every day. Usually it’s a picture of the weather outside the tea shop — several foggy, grey days are accompanied by the text _don’t worry, you’re not missing anything_ — but they sprinkle in conversation as well. He asks questions about her nights and she asks about his days. The worst part of night shift has always been the sense of isolation, but knowing that she will awaken to a message from Zuko each evening buoys her spirits.

When she finally returns to the tea shop, Iroh places a mountain of food in front of her.

“You must replenish your energy,” Iroh says sagely. “My nephew has been very worried about you.”

Zuko, who is arriving with some freshly brewed tea, colors a bit.

“I haven’t been _worried_ , Uncle. Katara can take care of herself.”

“If you were not worried, why did you send her so many messages? I only suggested that you check on her once, but you checked every day!”

Zuko splutters a bit as Katara laughs. Iroh is a very good actor, but Katara can tell that his expression of polite inquiry is masking his glee at teasing his nephew.

“I was always very happy to get Zuko’s texts,” Katara says to Iroh. “Night shifts are lonely.”

Zuko looks a little less embarrassed and Iroh’s expression softens. He gives her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“We are both very happy to see you again, Miss Katara. I must attend to some customers, but I am sure Zuko can keep you company.”

Katara expects Zuko to look uncomfortable at these words — he has always been hesitant to sit with her, and she had often had to insist that she really _did_ want his company — but Zuko slides easily into the seat across from her. He pulls out his phone and holds it up to her.

“I know you don’t need proof that the sun was out today, but I saw this cat in a stroller and you have to see it.”

The warmth she feels inside has nothing to do with the picture before her, and everything to do with Zuko’s smile.

—

“Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

Katara is hanging out in the back booth of the tea shop, her school notes strewn across the table. The shop had been closed for hours, but she and Zuko had set up a work station for themselves for the evening. Iroh had heartily disapproved of them working so hard, but would make occasional rounds to bring them tea: a calming cup of chamomile for Zuko, and gingko-biloba infusion to boost Katara’s memory in her studying. Katara, however, had been taking a break for the past ten minutes and had been furiously texting with Sokka. She hadn’t realized her outburst had been out loud until Zuko prompted her again.

“Hey — are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Katara says, putting down her phone. “My dad and brother are being ridiculous.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow.

“Given what you’ve told me about your brother, being ridiculous is pretty on-brand for him, right?”

Katara lets out a snort of laughter, but her amusement is short-lived. Her phone buzzes angrily and she swats it aside.

“Ugh, they’re both being such overprotective _guys_ ,” she grouses. 

Zuko sets aside his own work and waits for her to continue. She slumps back in her seat.

Katara had carefully arranged her rotations her final year of medical school such that she would be done with her training well before graduation. This would ensure a full, glorious five weeks of freedom. She had mapped out her dream roadtrip — five national parks, four new cities, visits to Suki and Toph and Aang — and she had been counting down the days until she could go. But now…

“You know how I told you about my road trip plan? Well, Sokka and my dad don’t want me to go by myself. They say it’s too ‘dangerous’ for a woman to go alone.”

Zuko frowns darkly.

“Well…” he starts.

“Not you, too!” she shouts, rising up with indignation. “I can’t believe you—“

“Whoa, wait a second,” Zuko says, putting up his hands. “I’m not saying I agree with them. But it _is_ a really long trip — it’s a lot of hours on the road, you could get lost…”

“I’ve got plenty of maps,” she says hotly. “And I’m not going to be alone the whole time — I’m meeting friends along the way!”

Zuko shrugs.

“I know you can handle yourself,” Zuko says in a neutral tone. “But I’m going to be texting you to make sure you’re doing okay while you’re gone.”

Katara blinks, surprised.

“You are?”

Zuko raises his eyebrow again.

“Of course.”

Katara slumps back again, frowning. She’s thought about amending her plans, but she hasn’t been sure… perhaps it would be a step too far…

“Do you want to come with me?”

Zuko’s head rears back a bit in surprise.

“You… you want me to come with you?”

“I know you have work and stuff,” Katara says quickly. “So you know, obviously not for the whole trip. But if you wanted, we could go camping together for a long weekend or something. I’ve never been to Serpent’s Pass National Park before, but it’s supposed to be full of great hiking, and it’s not too far from Ba Sing Se. You could come with me for the first few days of the trip.”

She leans forward a bit in her chair, moving her hands under her legs. In her excitement, she’s been waving them around her face to an increasingly wide-eyed Zuko. She feels anxiety bubbling up in her stomach as she awaits his response.

“That… that sounds… yeah, I’d love to go with you, Katara.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I really would.”

She is suddenly struck by what a terrible idea this is. The rasp in his voice, the gleam of his golden eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile have set her heart galloping. It’s one thing to pretend that she only likes him as a friend when they are in the safety of his uncle’s tea shop. It will be quite another thing to share a tent, to stare at the stars together. She presses more weight down onto her hands anxiously.

They go back to working, but Katara is extremely distracted. She tries to sneak a glance at Zuko every so often, and is disappointed to find him staring at his laptop, deep in concentration. When she calls it quits less than an hour later, she expects him to barely take notice, but he immediately stops and rotates his screen for her viewing.

“Before you go, what would you think about this hike? It’s 8 miles, but there’s supposed to be a nice waterfall in late spring.”

Katara beams at him.

“Yeah, Zuko. That sounds great.”

—

Two weeks before the licensing exam, Katara reaches a peak of anxiety. The exam itself isn’t what worries her. The scores will be somewhat important, but the big day that matters is today: match day.

Her fellow classmates gather with their friends and family in a large auditorium. At the front of the room are several tables covered with envelopes. Today, Katara will find out where she has been accepted for residency, and where she will spend the next several years of her career. She knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but Sokka had always teased her that hope was her ‘thing.’

The unveiling ceremony starts promptly at 10AM, and many people are lingering around with their families. Katara is one of the few people entirely alone; her father and brother could not afford to fly out for match day and for graduation in such a short time frame. She certainly does not take it personally, but it does feel a little lonely.

As she waits, she notices a few of her friends, each with their own families, glance quickly her way. Katara has the sensation that they are looking at someone behind her, and she turns to find that her instincts were right. Zuko comes to a stop next to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Zuko! What are you doing here?!”

Zuko shrugs, looking uncomfortable.

“I thought you said friends could come, right?”

“Yes, of course!” she says, throwing her arms around him in excitement. He stiffens a bit, but awkwardly reaches his arms up to pat her back.

“Uncle sends his best wishes,” Zuko says, disentangling himself from Katara. “He wishes he could be here, but, ironically, he has a doctor’s appointment.”

Katara beams up at Zuko, and she can’t help herself from pouncing on him in a second, anxiety-and-excitement fueled hug. Zuko seems more prepared this time, and he gives a huffing laugh.

“That nervous, huh?” he says, guessing the source of Katara’s energy.

“Oh, no,” she says with a light sarcasm. “Just the biggest decision day of my career so far, no big deal.”

Zuko gives her a grin that’s more of a grimace, but his voice is drowned out by the flurry of excitement as the medical school’s director moves up to the stage. There are a few minutes platitudes about the tenacity and excellence of the young doctors in the room, but most people aren’t listening. When the speech is ended, they all rise nervously to collect their envelopes. Katara is almost surprised at how light it feels in her hands; for all of the mental weight it has held over her head these past few months, she has forgotten it is just a piece of paper. 

She unfolds the letter with shaking hands. Her eyes immediately skip to the center of the page.

_**Congratulations, you have matched!** _

_Institution Name: Caldera City Community Hospital_

_Program Name: Pediatrics_

She reads through the short paper twice, making sure to check it’s really her name at the top of the page. She has gotten her first choice placement. It’s far and away the best program in country, it’s much closer to her family, and she had very much enjoyed the city itself on her visit. Her mind reels, already imagining what her new life will be like in a strange, new city…

“Are you okay?”

Katara whips her head up. She had completely forgotten about Zuko. She thrusts the letter into his hands wordlessly and watches his eyes race across the page. He stares up at her and breaks into the biggest grin she’s ever seen from him.

“Katara, this is great! Congratulations!”

She takes as much satisfaction in the fact that Zuko initiates the hug than she does in the hug itself. When he pulls away, she is grinning ear to ear, bouncing a little in place.

“This one was the program you wanted, right? And the Community Hospital is the best one in town. My mom insisted on taking me there when she thought I broke my foot.”

“You broke your foot?”

“It was a sprain. Azula dared me to jump out of the second story window.”

“What?! Zuko!”

“See, this is why they need good doctors, like you!”

She bites back a laugh, but before she can respond, a group of her medical school friends descend upon her.

“Katara! Where did you get? Caldera City? I knew it!”

She’s pulled away from Zuko for a while as she and her classmates compare their matches. Two other classmates will join her in Caldera City — one in oncology and the other in internal medicine — and there’s already talk between them of sharing an apartment. Caldera City prices are not cheap.

When Katara looks up, half an hour has gone by. Her friends rejoin their families for pictures, and Katara sets out to find Zuko. He’s sitting a little apart from the rest of the crowd, flicking through his phone with a half-bored expression. When he notices her arrival, he gives her a genuine smile and tucks his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry about that,” Katara says.

“Don’t apologize. It’s a big moment for all of you. Must be nice to share it with your friends.”

“Thank you for being here,” she says suddenly. “Really, it means a lot. I knew there was no way for Sokka or my dad to be here, and I thought I was fine alone… I _was_ fine, but I’m still really glad you’re here.”

Zuko looks shyly at his feet for a moment before he straightens up.

“Uncle Iroh told me I should take your picture. So you can send it to your family,” he explains haltingly.

“Oh, that would be great!” 

She goes to pull out her own phone, but Zuko already has his raised.

“I think Uncle wanted me to send it to him, too,” he says sheepishly. “I’ll text it to you, don’t worry.”

On a whim, Katara flags down one of her classmates passing by.

“Can you take a picture of us?”

Zuko tries to protest that it is Katara’s day, but Katara beats him to the punch.

“Yes, it _is_ my day, and I want a picture with you. So stop being a spoilsport and come stand next to me.”

Zuko does dutifully as she asks, but as her friend — who insists on taking pictures from at least five angles — snaps photos, Zuko leans forward to whisper in her ear.

“Spoilsport? What are you, eighty-five?”

Katara turns to stick out her tongue at him right as another picture is taken. When her friend hands back the phone, Katara selects this one as her favorite.

“Send me this one, please,” she says to Zuko. “And maybe a slightly more dignified one to send to my dad.”

Zuko sends her a good half dozen, and she fires one off to her dad and Sokka. Zuko insists that she call them while he waits for her. He reveals he has taken a half-day off work to take her out for a celebratory lunch. Katara feels her heart soar.

Sokka and her father are thrilled for her, and both immediately bombard her with questions about where she will live and her moving plans. She knows that their over-prepared, strategy-obsessed questions are their way of showing they care. She gently suggests that she will need to do some research on neighborhoods, knowing full well that the two of them together will launch a full-scale investigation on her behalf, giving her a report on the city’s crime statistics and public transit system. It was actually helpful when she moved to Ba Sing Se, so she decides to put her father and Sokka’s strategic minds to good use. They take the bait and she hangs up to get lunch with Zuko.

She tries to savor every minute of their lunch. For once, she chooses not to fight over the check and let Zuko treat her to a nicer place than usual. The next two weeks will be intensive studying, although some of the pressure is off now that she already knows she’s been accepted into such an excellent program. Still, it means she might not see as much of Zuko as she would like, so she takes her opportunity to spend time with him to the fullest. 

When he leaves to return for work, he lets out a long sigh.

“I can’t wait until Serpent’s Pass,” he says, rubbing his forehead. “This project is killing me. My boss is being such an idiot, and he won’t listen to me when I tell him it’s not going to work.”

“Do you want to take a longer break from work? You’d be welcome to join for longer on the trip. I’m meeting up with my friend Aang after Serpent’s Pass, but it would be fun if you joined us.”

Zuko gives her a tight smile.

“Thanks, Katara. But I really can’t spend that much time away from work.”

“When was the last time you had a vacation? Company-paid holidays don’t count.”

“You sound like Uncle Iroh.”

“And your uncle is usually right.”

“Katara…”

“Fine, fine,” she says, putting up her hands. “I just don’t think they appreciate how hard you work. You deserve a break.”

Zuko says nothing, but looks towards the approaching bus.

“Congratulations, Katara. Caldera City will be lucky to have you.”

She watches as he boards and the bus pulls away. She feels a terrible sense of loneliness steal over her. It’s not the idea of leaving Ba Sing Se that hurts, but the idea that she might lose her closeness to Zuko. 

Katara’s standard approach to sadness is to shove it away. She doesn’t have time to dwell on her own bad thoughts when there are others worse off. People need her. At least, that’s what she has been doing since her mother passed away. 

She feels the weak spring sun on her face and she decides that for once, she should let herself go.

She walks home the long route, stopping to admire the new blooms of the season. Occasionally she cries, although she’s not really sure why. Sometimes she laughs, like when she sees a baby excitedly chasing after a dog, or when two seagulls get into a fight over a crust of bread. Whatever she feels in the moment, she allows herself to express it. 

When she arrives at her door, she has a barrage of texts from friends — Aang and Suki and Toph all demand updates from her day — and she smiles. She sends them the picture of her and Zuko (Toph’s immediate response is “ _Earth to Sugar Queen, my automated text reader can’t show me pictures TELL ME WHERE YOU’RE GOING GODDAMN IT.”_ ) and then a short addendum of _”Caldera City Pediatrics!!!”_.

She feels strangely light and heavy at the same time, a weird sense of balance. She puts her books aside for the day and decides to be in the moment.

—

Her ‘living in the moment’ phase lasts all of twenty four hours before she starts studying again. She texts Aang, and he’s impressed that she managed to stay away from her precious textbooks for so long. She promises him she will fully immerse herself in nature when they meet up in three weeks time when she starts her roadtrip. For now, she has to knuckle down for the last stretch before her exam.

She has a few study nights in the tea shop, an increasingly stressed Zuko working beside her. After a week, he becomes so grumpy that Katara decides to take a break and study from home. She thinks perhaps it’s not the most supportive thing to do, but it’s driving her crazy to watch Zuko work himself to death at a job that he dislikes so much.

Four days before her test, Zuko calls her. At first, she assumes it’s just a text and ignores the buzzing of her phone, but her curiosity is piqued when it keeps going. Zuko has never called her before.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Zuko’s voice is as raspy as ever, but sounds strangely high and choked. “Sorry, I, uh… I don’t know why I called.”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh. Yeah, uh… yeah. Sorry, you’re studying. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Zuko…” Katara feels panic rising in her throat. Zuko is definitely _not_ fine.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll… I’ll see you on Saturday, I guess.”

He hangs up and doesn’t pick up when she calls him back. Thoroughly distracted, she pushes her textbooks aside and hops on her bike over to the tea shop.

The shop is usually still open at this time of day, but Katara can tell as she approaches that the lights have been dimmed and the ‘closed’ sign has been flipped over. Whatever is going on with Zuko has caused Iroh to close shop early, which certainly can’t be good. Katara tries to stay calm. She pushes her way through the side gate to lock her bike up near the trash bins. It might be taking a few liberties to just waltz in through the side door, but her worry is driving her forward regardless of the impropriety.

She almost runs into Iroh in the kitchen, and although she gives a little jump of surprise, he seems to have been expecting her.

“He’s in the front room,” Iroh says in a low voice, jerking his head. “I must attend to this tea. I will be with you shortly.”

She cautiously enters the main room and spots Zuko slumped forward at their usual table, his face buried in his hands. His hair is sticking straight up in every direction, as if he’s been pulling on it for quite some time. Katara is not totally unfamiliar with the sight, and she assumes that whatever has Zuko this upset has to do with work.

Zuko looks up and winces when he spots her.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says darkly. “It was stupid of me to call you.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she says, settling down across from him. “Zuko, what’s going on?”

Zuko groans and puts his head in his hands again. Iroh arrives with some tea and pours them all a cup. She detects a whiff of ginger and her stomach twists itself even tighter. Iroh only made ginger tea for Zuko when he was having a _really_ bad day.

“I got fired.”

Zuko’s voice is low and pained, muffled by his hands. Katara shoots Iroh a look, which Iroh returns. They have to tread carefully here. Both of them have long been in agreement that Zuko would do well to quit his job, but they can’t exactly say that they are happy that things have ended this way.

Zuko doesn’t seem to notice, but lowers his hands to wrap them around his cup of tea. He stares forlornly at the water.

“Zuko, I’m really sorry,” she says softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zuko sighs and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. He lifts his face to meet her gaze.

“I guess it’s been coming for a while. You and uncle know I’ve been having… issues with the way things were being run. I guess I talked back one too many times.”

Zuko’s eyes keep flicking nervously to his uncle, and something clicks.

“Zuko, you know we’re on your side, right?” Katara says. “We don’t think you did anything wrong. They were working your team too hard. You were right to stick up for them.”

Iroh seems to understand where Katara is going.

“Nephew, I know in the past you did things to get yourself into trouble. This is not like that. I am very proud that you tried to do what was right.”

Zuko looks back down at his tea, lips pressed tightly together. He does not speak for a very long time, and Katara tries to avoid looking directly at him to give him some privacy. She might not know exactly how Zuko is feeling, but she can take a guess. In their past conversations, Zuko has alluded many times to how much trouble he caused for Iroh, and how he had regretted his actions. She assumed that getting fired from a job felt like when he had been expelled from school: that he had messed up, again, and was going to be a burden to Iroh as always. The three of them sit in silence, quietly sipping tea, until Zuko speaks again.

“Thank you both for making me feel better. I’m sorry I’ve inconvenienced both of you.”

“It is not an inconvenience, nephew. We are both here to support you.”

“But you said you had a pai sho tournament tonight, and Katara has her test on Friday.”

“Forget the stupid test,” Katara says adamantly. “You’re more important.”

Zuko goggles at her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she scolds. “I don’t care more about grades than I do about people.”

Zuko smirks, looking relaxed for the first time all evening.

“No, of course you don’t,” he says softly.

“Come on,” she says, feeling a hint of a blush rise. “Let’s go grab dinner or something. Celebrate your freedom.”

Iroh claps his hands together.

“An excellent idea, Miss Katara. Every end is a new beginning, nephew. And it is best to start a new journey with a full stomach.”

Zuko gives his uncle a half-exasperated, half-fond eye roll and Katara smiles. She gathers her coat and they set off down the street together. As they approach the pho shop — Iroh is insisting they go try a new dish there — Zuko stops dead.

“Did you mean it when you said you would want company on your trip?”

“Of course I did,” she says. 

“Well, now that I don’t have a job…”

It takes a moment for Katara to realize she’s literally jumping up and down with excitement.

“Oh, please, come! It will be so much fun! We can do Serpent’s Pass, and you can meet Aang and Suki… maybe even Toph if you want to come for the whole time! That is, if you want to spend that much time with me…”

“I would really like that,” Zuko says quickly. “That would be… yeah, that would be great. That is, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course, I don’t mind! Oh, this is wonderful! I can send you all my maps tonight. We can definitely change the itinerary if you want, but I did promise to meet Aang in a week. And we have to stop in Kyoshi after, but it’s going to be so fun!”

She has to bite her lip to stop from gushing even more. She doesn’t want to scare him off, but the shy smile on his face is making it very difficult to keep calm. Iroh, who seems to have been politely ignoring their conversation, holds the restaurant door open for them to enter. As Katara passes him, he beams at her and she blushes. She wonders if he is just glad that his nephew has a friend, or if he is amused by Katara’s enthusiasm. She is sure that if anyone could tell she had a crush on Zuko, it would be Iroh.

Despite the evening’s initial dark mood, their dinner is pleasant and light. Zuko, usually the quietest of the three of them, slowly warms all evening, asking Katara questions about the trip and laughing with his uncle about their own travels years ago. Katara learns that Zuko had actually spent time in Kyoshi — one of the several cities where he had been expelled from the local high school — and that he and Iroh had done plenty of camping. This surprises Katara, as she always assumed Iroh was not much one for roughing it, but she supposes it makes sense that a man who seems to have such a profound appreciation for nature would drag his nephew along with him.

“Don’t worry,” Zuko whispers to her across the table. “He always brought at least five types of tea with him.”

Katara does her best to hide her giggling. She is sure Iroh will insist Zuko bring tea with them on their trip. She certainly won’t be protesting; Iroh’s tea blends are far and away the best she’s ever had.

The evening winds down and Katara begrudgingly returns to the tea shop to fetch her bike. After spending so many hours cooped up with her books, she is itching for freedom, and the taste she has gotten this evening makes it difficult to go back. Before she leaves, Zuko gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “It was really nice of you. I know you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you,” she says quietly. “And I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Of course,” he responds with conviction.

Katara smiles and waves before setting off. She can’t help looking back over her shoulder as she rides away. She can just make out Zuko’s form in the street, watching her ride away. The thought of him keeps her warm as she pedals her way home.

—

“So how did it go?”

“Nope,” Katara says, lying sideways across the bench of the booth. “We’re not going to talk about it.”

Zuko doesn’t seem to know what to do with this statement and hesitates. Katara amends her answer.

“It was fine, and I think I did okay. But I’ve been thinking about this stupid test for so long and now it’s over and I just want to think about literally anything else.”

“That’s fair,” Zuko says, shrugging.

Katara hoists herself up from her prone position.

“Should we walk about the plan for tomorrow?”

Zuko whips out his laptop and turns it towards her. In the four days since his firing, he has completely thrown himself into trip planning. Katara worries that perhaps he is trying to avoid dealing with his change in employment, but she has to admit that he seems much happier. He looks well-rested and eager, and she wonders again if she will be able to contain herself from this deeply-appealing side of Zuko for much longer.

Zuko, who seems not to notice Katara’s internal distraction, walks her through his alterations to their plans. The changes are mild — all of the stops are the same — but he has found hikes along the way, and listed possible hotel options for the city. Katara tries to point out that she is fine staying in a crappy motel, but Zuko cuts her off.

“I haven’t had a vacation in three years,” he says evenly. “I don’t mind paying for a nice place to stay. And before you say anything, I insist on paying for it.”

“Zuko…”

“Please, Katara. I’m sitting on three years of vacation funds here. I’d like to spend it on something fun for once.”

Katara feels the usual sense of discomfort at having someone pay for her — growing up poor has made her particularly sensitive to the charity of others — but she acquiesces. She knows that this was one of the ways Zuko was raised, that money could be used to convey affection for someone. Refusing him would make him feel like she was rejecting his attempt at friendship, so she relents. She knows she’ll get him back with her own version of this; he is uncomfortable with letting her help him, but he’s recognized it’s her way of being connected to him. They will meet each other halfway.

“I’ve made a packing list, and I hope you don’t mind, but I got the first round of groceries today based on the list you provided. I couldn’t find any dehydrated coconut milk, but I figure since we’re car camping and not backpacking, we could just bring a can instead.”

“That’s fine,” she says, perusing his lists. “What are these ropes for?”

“Hammocks.”

“I don’t have a hammock,” she points out.

Zuko looks a little sheepish and reaches down to his feet. He hands her a bag of fabric compacted down to the size of a water bottle.

“Zuko, you didn’t have to get me this.”

Zuko shrugs, looking uneasy.

“I got one for myself. I figured you would want one as well.”

She notices the hammock is a bright, sky blue. Her favorite color.

“Thank you,” she whispers. 

Something hangs between them for a moment, only broken by the chime of a grandfather clock from the front of the tea shop. Zuko turns back to his plans, pointing out their route for the next morning.

“Should be a four hour drive to Serpent’s Pass. What time do you want to leave?”

They settle on 9AM and Katara returns to her apartment to pack and prepare for the trip. She is interrupted twice by phone calls from Aang, who is ecstatic to see her soon and to meet Zuko. Katara had informed Aang that Zuko also liked to bike, and Aang had gone to a whole new level of excitement. Both of his phone calls are to ask detailed questions about what kind of mountain bike he should bring to ride with Zuko.

“I’ve got a hardtail and a full suspension, and I’m fine with riding either, but if he has a preference…”

“Aang, I have zero idea what he rides,” Katara interrupts. “Why don’t I give you his number and you can text him yourself?”

The next morning, as she pulls her half-full Subaru up to the curb in front of the tea shop, Zuko is smirking at her.

“So I got a phone call from your friend, Aang,” he says, hoisting his camping gear into the trunk.

“Oh, shoot, I forgot to warn you I gave him your number.”

“It’s okay. He seems…” Zuko trails off, and Katara laughs.

“Yeah, Aang is a lot. He’s really nice, he just wants to be best friends with everybody.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

Katara hopes that Zuko and Aang will get along. It feels very surreal that she is bringing her crush to meet her ex-boyfriend, but she tries to rationalize that they are both currently just her friends, and it’s not weird for one friend to meet another. This line of thinking only partially works.

It takes a while to arrange the cooler of food and all of Zuko’s supplies into the back of the car, and Iroh insists on bringing them a cup of tea for the road. He grasps Zuko’s arms with both hands, beaming up at him.

“Take care, nephew. May your journey be blessed with much discovery.”

“Bye, uncle. I’ll call you when we leave the park and are in cell range again.”

Iroh nods happily and turns to Katara.

“Miss Katara, I wish you safe travels with my nephew. I trust that you will have an excellent time together.”

Katara can feel a faint blush rising, and moves to give Iroh a hug. Her attempt to distract him does not seem to have worked, however, and he gives her a little wink when Zuko is momentarily looking away.

Katara and Zuko slide into the car and Katara turns the key. The engine roars to life and they set off. Zuko gives Iroh one last wave as they round the corner, and Katara smiles.

“Next stop, Serpent’s Pass!”

—

The hours pass as the scenery gradually grows less urban and more green. They switch off driving halfway through, and test out several different audio distractions. They have rather different tastes in music, but they settle on some podcasts, although they frequently pause the recording to debate and discuss the material. By the time they pull into the campsite Katara had reserved months before, they are deeply immersed in discussion and it seems almost a shame to stop driving.

Serpent’s Pass is glorious. The sparkling sea is a stark contrast with the towering peaks that rise above them. Their first afternoon is spent setting up camp and leisurely exploring, but they decide to spend the next day on Zuko’s suggested long hike to a waterfall. It does not disappoint.

Throughout the day, they talk. Katara finds herself telling Zuko more about her childhood, especially stories of her and Sokka’s misadventures. Zuko laughs and asks questions, but as the day wears on, she senses sadness underneath. She knows Zuko well enough by now to realize that if she waits, he may tell her what’s bothering him, but it’s best not to push.

That night, Zuko chops firewood and arranges a fire in the large pit provided at their campsite. She is impressed at the speed and precision of his fire-making, and Zuko reveals that in his years of camping with his uncle, this had always been his favorite chore. They both settle around the roaring fire and watch the flames dance in the night. 

As the flames begin to die, Zuko takes a deep breath. Katara waits.

“My sister is bipolar.”

Katara turns to him, blinking in the dim light. Zuko continues to stare intently into the fire.

“There were signs by the time I left home. She was always brilliant, but she started taking it to extremes. She’d stay up all night coding, which wasn’t too odd, but then she started doing it for days at a time. She’d crash hard after; she could barely get out of bed. I just thought it was part of her genius process. Our dad certainly seemed to think so. He’d always compare my work ethic to hers, and I could never keep up when Azula was ‘on.’”

Katara reaches out to lay a hand gently over Zuko’s arm, but she does not interrupt him. Zuko’s face pinches a bit, but he draws a deep breath and speaks again.

“I used to hear from Azula after I left home. She started writing me these weird emails. They were longer every time, and they went from pretty standard stuff — telling me about her successes, throwing in some digs about my own failures — but they started escalating. Some of the stuff she said… it didn’t make any sense. But if I wrote back, she would almost never respond. If she did respond, it was months later, and she would tell me that I was wrong to be concerned and she would list off all her new accomplishments.”

“I’ve been worried about her for a long time, but I never really knew what I was worried about. I sort of thought that this was just who Azula was: brilliant, unapproachable, and — I know I shouldn’t use this word, but — kind of _crazy_. Not always crazy in a bad way. Some of her ideas… she could imagine stuff no one else had the balls to try. But sometimes it _was_ crazy, and I didn’t know how to help. I didn’t know if I _should_ help. Maybe she liked being this way.”

Zuko pauses for a long moment and Katara slides her hand down towards his. He grasps it and turns to give her a tight smile. 

“I’ve never actually told anyone about Azula before,” he says quietly. “I felt like if I said it out loud, that would make it real.”

“I know that feeling,” Katara says, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. I know it must be really hard.”

Zuko nods absently at the fire, hand still held in hers. He takes another deep breath and continues.

“It came to a head last year when my dad got arrested. I hadn’t been in contact with Azula for a while, but about two weeks after his arrest I got another weird email from her. Then she actually came to Ba Sing Se, talking about starting over, ‘taking over’ the town. I realized then what I had been trying to deny: Azula was sick, and ignoring it was only going to make it worse. I tried reaching out to her friends, but they’ve been dealing with the brunt of her moods for the past few years. They had tried to help plenty of times with no success.”

“Azula went back to Caldera City as soon as she realized I was going to try to help her. I’ve tried to do some stuff from far away, but it’s tricky. I’ve hired people to check in on her when she goes down into her depressive moods — they keep her apartment clean, and make sure she has food — but once the mania comes back she goes berserk and fires all of them. I call her once a week, but she almost never answers. She’ll leave me messages when I’m asleep though. I have to delete a lot of them because she just starts ranting about all the shit that’s going on with my dad and conspiracies against him and our family. There’s no conspiracy: our dad is a crook, and she’s the one burning through her money when she goes into a manic episode. Without our dad around to hold the purse strings and give her projects, she’s falling apart.”

Zuko’s voice cracks a bit and he shuts his eyes. Katara feels a great sorrow descend over her. She is thankful, more than ever, that Zuko at least has had the love and support of his uncle. The rest of Zuko’s family life seems impossibly sad. Unsure of what else to do, she scoots her camp chair even closer to his and lays her head on his shoulder. The movement seems to distract Zuko, and he sighs.

“I’ve thought about going back to Caldera City for a long time. Even when my dad wasn’t in prison, I would try to convince myself that he didn’t run the town — I could go back whenever I wanted. But maybe there was a part of me that sensed being home would pull me back into my family’s orbit, and I just couldn’t face all the pain they had caused me and themselves. But I don’t think it’s right that I leave Azula alone to sort this out. I’m her brother. I should watch out for her.”

“I know you want to help her,” Katara says cautiously. “But in my experience…”

“I know,” Zuko sighs heavily, his head resting against hers. “She has to want to help herself. And clearly she doesn’t want that right now, but I can’t help thinking… I wasn’t exactly in her position, but I was like her once. I needed help and I didn’t want to accept it. Uncle tried for years. But I never felt like I really _deserved_ help. And for all of Azula’s blustering about how she’s the best and amazing at everything, I think she feels the same way. We were always raised to be responsible and take care of ourselves. Our father only made it worse by telling us that to ask for help was a sign of weakness.”

“What made you change your mind?” Katara asks quietly.

“I’m not really sure. But one morning, I looked over at Uncle Iroh… he had been up late preparing for a big day at the tea shop — you know how big a deal Spring Festival week is — but he was making us breakfast like he always did. Even though he always told me I used too much hot sauce, he put some in front of me anyway. It sort of just clicked. I had someone in the world who saw my flaws and accepted them, someone who wanted to help me even when it was hard — and I made it _really_ hard. I’m lucky I had that. I don’t think Azula does.”

Zuko shifts a little, sitting upright again. Katara lifts her head, but their hands stay clasped together.

“Maybe it’s crazy, thinking that being close to Azula will help her. But it’s something new to try, and if it can help steer her to a safer path, it will be worth it.”

Katara squeezes Zuko’s hand and smiles widely at him. A faint flush appears at his cheeks, and he ducks his head to look back at the fire.

“Thanks for listening to me talk about this.”

“Of course, Zuko. I’m always happy to listen.”

Zuko lets out a relieved sigh, slumping back in his camp chair.

“I’ve wanted to tell you about it for a while, actually. My therapist suggested I be more ‘ _open_ ’ with people. You’ve been open with me since I first met you — I figured I should take your lead on this one.”

Katara turns to look at Zuko again, but his eyes are closed, head thrown back towards the sky. She stares at the long line of his neck.

“Have you been seeing a therapist for a while?” she asks. She doesn’t want to pry too much, but she must admit, she is quite curious.

“A few months,” he answers easily. “Uncle Iroh made me go a lot when I was a teenager — just another way he was trying to help me — but I hadn’t been in a while. I figured I was fixed enough, and I could just deal with my shit on my own.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You did, actually.”

Katara blinks, stunned. Zuko turns towards her, an unusual look of fondness on his face. It makes her heart race, and for a moment she forgets what they had been talking about.

“Remember when we went to get pho that first time?” Zuko asks, bringing Katara out of her reverie.

“Yes, of course.”

“You mentioned your mom, and I talked about mine… I hadn’t told anyone about my mom in years. It was really hard, but I felt… I felt so much lighter afterwards. And I even told you about what a monster my dad was and you still wanted to talk to me, still wanted to be my friend. It… it made me realize how much I had been ‘dealing’ with my issues by just closing them off. I hadn’t made them go away, I had just tried to hide them. And talking to you… I didn’t want to be like that anymore, so I thought I’d try therapy again.”

He finishes with a shrug, looking embarrassed. Katara squeezes his hand again and angles her head so he’s forced to meet her eyes.

“I think that’s really brave of you, Zuko,” she says softly. “I know it’s really hard to open up, and I think you should be really proud of yourself.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s blushing in the flickering firelight, but Zuko glances down towards their hands for a moment. She lets him collect himself and waits until he meets her gaze again to continue.

“I’m glad you told me all of this. If you ever want to talk, I’m always here to listen. And I’ll do whatever I can to support you. This thing with Azula… it’s going to be hard, but I want you to know that I’ll always be on your side.”

The look of fondness is back and Katara’s heart leaps again. She wonders if her own expression reveals how utterly taken she is by Zuko. If it does, she wonders what he must think to see it.

“Thanks, Katara,” he rasps.

A huge RV roars into the campground, its headlights briefly shining into their campsite and blinding them in the dark. The intimacy of the moment evaporates, and they release their intertwined hands. In near-silence, they clean up their supplies and douse the fire before crawling into their sleeping bags.

“Goodnight, Zuko,” she whispers.

“Goodnight, Katara.”

That night, she dreams of the pho shop, just her and Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come :)


	3. Air and Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing the rating up a little bit. Enjoy!

They spend two more days in Serpent’s Pass, and they adopt a routine. Most of the day is spent exploring and hiking, but before dinner, they spend an hour or two alone. This is taken as a precautionary measure: if they are going too spend several weeks together, they need to ensure that they don’t drive each other crazy by constant togetherness. This is mostly Katara’s idea, as she suspects that Zuko has a much higher need for alone time than she does. Still, they both seem to appreciate the chance to go their separate ways, and they reconvene to cook and sit by the campfire with clear heads.

They make one stop in a small town between Serpent’s Pass and Chameleon Bay. As much as Katara likes camping, she misses taking a regular shower, so all of their excursions are bookended by a stay in a hotel. She and Zuko share a room with two large, double beds. Even though they sleep only inches away from each other in the tent, the hotel room feels more intimate, despite the several feet between them. Perhaps it’s the fact that they are penned into the same room — even when they have ‘alone time,’ they are still within each other’s line of sight. 

The hotel is just a brief stop, and they leave early the next morning to meet Aang. Katara spends the car ride filling Zuko on some of the history between her and Aang — how they met in school, some of their post-college adventures together — and she tries to suppress some of her nerves. It shouldn’t matter to her that Aang and Zuko get along, but she can’t help feeling some trepidation. Zuko is hard to read. He asks questions and laughs at the right moments, but she can’t help but sense that he might be nervous, too. Katara hopes that Aang’s enthusiasm about the two of them going on a biking adventure hasn’t put Zuko off.

They arrive mid-morning to find Aang’s small car already parked in their campsite. Aang had planned on arriving a day before them to scope out the best trails, and he emerges from his tent with a huge smile.

Katara leaps from the car and into Aang’s arms. As always, his enthusiasm is infectious. After a long hug, Katara releases Aang and steps back.

“Aang, this is my friend, Zuko.”

Zuko moves forward to shake Aang’s hand, who looks bemused by the formality. Aang is really more of a hugger, but he grips Zuko’s hand and shakes it heartily.

“Nice to meet you, man!” Aang grins.

“Likewise,” Zuko rasps.

Katara and Zuko unload their tent and supplies as Aang flits around the campsite. He helps them unload a little, but he gets distracted and frequently goes to check on his bicycle, or a trail map, or a bird’s nest he has discovered nearby. Zuko catches Katara’s eye.

“Is this… a normal amount of energy for him?”

Katara laughs.

“Just wait. I think he wants to go hike up the peak this afternoon. We’re going to need that extra-strength tea Iroh packed us to keep up.”

As Katara expected, Aang leads them on a brutally steep hike. It’s fun, but it requires intense concentration and exertion. Aang, as always, seems to float up the mountain. Although this normally makes Katara feel out of shape, she’s glad to see that even Zuko is a bit winded. Katara occasionally huffs out a question, and Aang cheerfully leads the conversation. By the time they arrive back in camp, the sun is all but gone, and all three of them are ravenous. They throw together a simple dinner and devour most of their snack food in the few minutes they have to wait for their meal to cook.

They spend a companionable evening around the fire. Katara and Aang dominate the conversation, but Zuko seems unbothered by this. As the evening wears on, Katara jerks her head towards their tent. Zuko nods gratefully, and they turn in to sleep.

“Thanks for making this stop with me,” Katara says as they settle into their sleeping bags. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Aang.”

“He seems nice,” Zuko says. “He said he wanted to go biking tomorrow. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure. You guys will have fun.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join? I bet we could find you a bike.”

“I can’t keep up with Aang,” she says, shaking her head. “Besides, he’s kind of crazy on a mountain bike. Please don’t follow him off a cliff.”

Zuko smirks.

“I’ll do my best.”

The next morning, Aang and Zuko head off, a faint whizzing sound of their wheels on the pavement as they retreat. Katara can already hear Aang jabbering away, asking Zuko a barrage of questions.

Katara turns and sets out on a brisk jog, her mind whirling with plans for her solo day. She could read or take photographs of the bay. But the farther she runs, the more she wants a day of true quiet, just to sit and enjoy her surroundings without feeling the need to _do_ anything about it. 

Tucked away in her bag is a vape pen Sokka had given her as a gift as she had started medical school. It had been he who had introduced her to marijuana in the first place — she had been adamantly against the use of any drugs whatsoever for most of her life. Aang had been in agreement with her, and he was still quite hesitant to put anything he deemed ‘unhealthy’ in his body. In an act of rebellion after their breakup, Katara had asked Sokka on a whim if they could get high and watch kung fu movies together, and had discovered that she actually really enjoyed it. She wasn’t sure if she enjoyed being high specifically, or just enjoyed feeling close with her brother. She had not used the vape pen much without him, and kept it around mostly for when he was in town and they felt like having a relaxing night in.

After her run, Katara changes into her swimsuit to dive into the bay. It’s freezing, but she forces herself to at least scrub down and get the sweat off of her. Then she pulls on her loose travel pants and a care-worn t-shirt, grabs her water bottle and the vape pen, and settles down on a towel by the bay’s shore.

The dappled sun through the forest leaves warms her face as she lies back, soaking in the silence of the mountain. She thinks of Zuko and Aang, and distantly wonders how they’re getting along. She’s glad Aang won’t be back for a long time; she’s sure he would disapprove of this particular choice of activity, and she’d rather not manage his emotions right now. Instead, she watches birds flit overhead, letting her mind wander in strange loops as she draws a deep breath.

She spends an hour contentedly listening to the water lap at the lake’s shoreline, an occasional hiker or biker passing through. She’s so relaxed, she doesn’t pay attention to the sound of footsteps approaching her.

“Katara?”

She blinks and sits up, turning to the source of the sound. Zuko is approaching her, his bike propped against Aang’s car in the distance. 

“I thought you guys were going to be gone for hours,” Katara says, confused.

“My bike chain broke, and we didn’t have the stuff to fix it,” Zuko says, coming to a stop just in front of her. “I told Aang to keep going, but I came back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, rising to her feet. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“No, I’m fine. Just the bike that needs fixing.”

“Are you going to head back out there?”

Zuko rubs the back of his head, flushing a little. Katara wonders a bit at this unusual reaction.

“My legs are pretty blasted from the hike, honestly. And you weren’t kidding — Aang is crazy fast. I thought… I thought maybe I could hang out with you instead? But if you wanted a quiet day alone, that’s fine, I —”

“We can hang out,” Katara interrupts. “I’m, uh, not doing very much though…”

She feels a little awkward, twirling the vape pen nervously between her fingertips. She knows she’s an adult and she can make her own decisions, but it still feels weird to admit, even to a friend, that her plan for the day was to get high.

Zuko’s eyes catch sight of the vape pen and his expression shifts. She can feel a blush on her cheeks — the sensation intensified by her chemical state — but there’s no judgement in Zuko’s eyes.

“Honestly, that sounds pretty fucking great right about now. I’ll go clean up a bit and I’ll be back. If that’s okay with you.”

Her thoughts jump away from the conversation for a moment, and she feels a great sadness that Zuko assumes that he is unwanted and unwelcome company. She wants to find a way to tell him that she really _does_ like having him around. Rather a lot actually. Arguably too much…

Instead she shakes her head a bit to clear it, and says, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be here.”

She returns to her prone position on the towel before she can embarrass herself further. Zuko rummages around the camp for a bit. He, too, goes to clean up in the bay, and Katara cannot resist watching him as he moves into the water. 

One of the things Katara has always enjoyed about weed is how it makes her feel connected to her body, like she can feel each drop of blood coursing through her veins. As Zuko emerges from the bay, glistening wet, she can feet the thrum of blood moving a hot streak down her center, pooling in her thighs and groin. She feels a pounding arousal between her legs, and although she knows the feeling of lust has been amplified, it’s not _because_ of the weed that she feels it. She has been suppressing her attraction to Zuko for a very long time. It’s nice, for once, just to enjoy it. 

She shuts her eyes and her mind spins. She imagines him fucking her, hot and wild, right here on this very blanket. Her blood thrums louder, and she wonders if his touch could possibly feel as good as she’s imagining it right now. She takes deep breaths, letting her mind run free without censure, reveling in the passion that overtakes her. 

She can hear Zuko in the camp rustling through their supplies, and for a moment she questions the ethics of fantasizing about her friend who is only ten feet away. But then her mind supplies a suggestion that he, too, might fantasize about her sometimes…

After a few long moments, she sits up and rises to her feet on slightly shaky legs. She feels rather like she _has_ been thoroughly fucked and not just imagining it. She drifts to the other edge of camp, where she finds Zuko frowning at a set of trees.

“Something wrong?” she asks, hoping very much that there isn’t a blush on her face.

“I set up a hammock for you,” Zuko says, pointing between two nearby trees. “And I’m trying to find a spot for the other one, but I don’t think these trees are close enough for the ropes I have.”

Katara spies her hammock set up in the perfect spot — clear view of the bay and the mountain, enough sunlight to stay warm, but not too much to get hot. Her heart flips a bit at Zuko’s thoughtfulness and she decides to take a leap.

“It’s a double hammock, right?”

Zuko turns to look at her, a little unsure.

“Yes, but…”

“You can share with me,” she says with confidence. “Besides, if you want some of this —“ she wiggles the vape pen in her hand— “I’m not getting up from my hammock.”

Zuko hesitates for a moment, but he follows her, grabbing a bag of trail mix for them to share. Katara settles in before looking at him expectantly. He seems puzzled how to arrange himself, so Katara directs him.

“C’mere,” she says, stretching out the hammock around her. “You’re not putting your feet in my face after you’ve been biking.”

Zuko rolls his eyes.

“I did wash off in the bay, you know.”

But he settles in nevertheless, and they are pressed comfortably against each other. Katara passes Zuko the vape pen and sneaks a glance up at him. He exhales a long breath of steam, and she thinks he looks rather like a dragon. 

Zuko laughs, and she realizes that she has accidentally spoken out loud. The embarrassment, however, is fleeting, as Zuko gives her a rare, full smile and she feels rather stunned by its brightness.

They spend the afternoon intermittently talking and dozing, staring up at the sky. It feels too intense to turn to look directly at Zuko, but she does end up with her face buried in the crook of his neck at one point. She had been trying to wriggle into a more comfortable position and had ended up with her chest pressed on top of him. As she pulled away, she caught a glimpse of his expression, his eyes dark and fixed intensely on her. She had lain back with a muffled ‘my bad’ and closed her eyes to savor the eroticism of the moment. She was sure when she thought about this later she would judge herself harshly for her lustful thoughts, but she rather hoped she wouldn’t. It was really nice to feel excited about someone without feeling guilty that she was being distracted from her career goals.

“Thanks for sharing with me,” Zuko says as the afternoon fades. “This was really nice.”

“We could do it again, maybe?” Katara says tentatively.

“Definitely,” Zuko says with a hint of a sigh. “Yeah, definitely.”

They manage to untangle themselves as the sun began to dip and they grow cold. They pull on extra layers and set about preparing the evening meal. Zuko is arranging the firewood and telling Katara a story about getting in trouble as a kid as she chops vegetables for dinner. She feels an incredible sense of closeness to him, and he smiles easily and openly at her. The pounding lust warms into contentment, wrapping around her like a blanket. She feels less fuzzy from the weed, but no less satisfied than earlier.

Aang rolls into camp, muddy and exhilarated, just as the sun truly sets. 

“Sorry to have dropped you earlier, man,” he tells Zuko.

“No problem,” Zuko says with a shrug.

“Did you have fun?” Katara asks.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome! Great ride, really good track out there.”

Aang waxes poetically about his ride, Zuko listening with interest and asking questions every so often. Katara doles out portions of the coconut milk stew she has assembled to Aang’s enthusiasm.

“Mmm, I missed your cooking,” he says happily. 

Katara gives Aang a smile as Zuko stands abruptly.

“I’ll be right back,” he says stiffly, and he stalks off into the trees.

Aang seems unbothered and begins scarfing down his portion. Katara stares after Zuko, curious at his sudden change in mood. He does return soon, and she thinks that perhaps he had just gone off to the bathroom or something. Still, his expression looks a little downcast, and she’s not sure why.

“So, what did you guys get up to today?” Aang says, already licking his bowl clean and going back for seconds.

Katara debates for a moment. She decides that if wants to prove to herself that she and Aang really are friends, she should stop caring so much about what his reaction to the truth will be.

“We got high and hung out,” she says breezily, taking a bite of her stew.

Aang frowns a bit and shoots a look over at Zuko. Zuko, however, is looking at Katara with curiosity.

“Oh…” Aang says, a little at a loss for words. “And that was… fun?”

“Yeah,” Katara says, still in an unconcerned tone. “Nice to have a relaxing day, you know?”

“Yeah…” Aang says slowly. He shakes his head a bit and returns to his usual bubbly self. “Does that mean you would be down to go on another big hike tomorrow? I spotted this really cool trail…”

—

As expected, Aang leads them on another monster hike the next day, but the views are unparalleled. They break for lunch at a small alpine lake, and Katara and Aang shed their outer layers to take a dip. Zuko chooses to bask in the sun on the shore, but gives Katara a lazy smile.

“Don’t drown in the lake,” he cautions. “Because it’s definitely too cold to come in after you.”

Katara sticks out her tongue and races to join Aang. The water _is_ cold, but she’s not about to admit defeat and have Zuko smirk at her all afternoon.

Fortunately, Aang challenges her to a race, and she quickly warms up. They swim to the opposite shore and pause before heading back. Aang gives her an unusually sly look.

“Zuko seems cool,” he says casually.

“He’s great,” Katara agrees, feeling some trepidation as to where Aang might try to steer the conversation.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Katara groans. This is a supremely weird conversation to have with her ex-boyfriend. But she has to admit, she has been dying to talk to someone about it, and there’s almost no one better at talking about feelings than Aang.

“Fine,” Katara admits. “I like him.”

“And you haven’t told him because...?”

“Because a lot of things,” Katara says, treading water. “For one thing, I value our friendship, and if he doesn’t feel the same, it would ruin things.”

“You don’t know that.”

Katara glares at him, but Aang is impervious to her looks by now. Instead, her fires back a slightly smug grin.

“Okay, that’s one reason. You said you had others?” He asks in an innocent tone.

“I’m moving soon, and long-distance sucks.”

“He mentioned on our ride yesterday he’s from Caldera City and he’s thinking about moving back...”

“He hasn’t given any sign that he likes me,” she adds, ignoring Aang.

“I don’t think people volunteer to tag along on a five-week road trip with someone they don’t like.”

“You know what I mean,” she says, exasperated by Aang’s calm tone. 

“Zuko doesn’t seem like the type of guy to go around sharing all his feelings. If he does like you back — and I think there’s a very good chance he does — it’s not like he’s going to be shouting it from the rooftops, right?”

Katara frowns at him, but Aang smiles easily, gently bobbing in the water.

“Any more reasons?”

“Fine!” she shouts, annoyed. “I’m scared, okay?”

Aang’s smile falls.

“Scared? Why are you scared?”

“Look what happened to us, Aang,” she says sadly. “We were best friends before we dated, and I’m really, really glad we’re friends now, but we weren’t for a long time and it sucked. Zuko is really important to me, and he’s been such a good friend. I don’t want to lose that connection. It’s easier this way. No one has to get hurt.”

Aang stops treading water, and propels himself a few feet towards the shore, grabbing her hand. They stand on the smooth stones lining the bottom of the lake. Aang takes both of her hands tightly in his, his expression creased with concern.

“Katara, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. What happened between us... I held on for too long when I should’ve let you go. I made you feel guilty for following your own path instead of mine. I’ve worked a lot to change, but I guess I haven’t quite fixed the damage I did. You’re an amazing person, and you shouldn’t be scared to go after what you want. You deserve the chance to chase your dreams, and I am sorry I tried to stop you before, or if it made you feel like you can’t, or don’t deserve, to go after what you want. If you want to be with Zuko, I think you should do it. If he’s really the type of man you think he is, he’ll be honest with you. I can’t promise you won’t get hurt, but I know it must hurt you now to sit by and do nothing.”

Katara can’t help throwing her arms around Aang, her eyes wet with with tears. Aang just has a knack for putting difficult things into words. When she pulls away, she is smiling.

“Thanks for saying all that, Aang. And for the record, I want you to be happy and chase what you want, too.”

Aang gives her a beaming smile.

“I know. You’ve always been there for me, even when I was being stubborn and immature.”

“Stubborn and immature was kind of our trademark though,” she says fondly.

“Yeah, and speaking of that... last one back to the shore is a rotten egg!”

But Katara has anticipated this challenge and, before Aang can dive away, she hooks her hands into the back pocket of his shorts and yanks them down. Aang lets out an undignified squawk and Katara darts away, her arms cutting through the water in smooth, clean strokes. Aang starts to catch up, but Katara’s competitive side goes into overdrive, and she uses every ounce of adrenaline to speed her along. She’ll regret using up so much energy on the hike back, but it will be worth it to win.

She races out of the water, Aang hot on her heels, to a thoroughly bewildered Zuko. She turns back to Aang, breathless and dripping wet, and pumps her fists in the air in victory.

Aang gives her a congratulatory high five and they attempt to dry off. Zuko pulls out a small towel from his bag.

“You said you wanted to go swimming today, so I thought I should pack it just in case,” he says, shrugging.

Katara thanks him and tries to avoid Aang’s rather pointed look. Once they’re dry enough, they set off down the mountain. When Zuko drops back for a moment, Aang turns to Katara again.

“I’ll think about it,” is all she says. Aang looks satisfied.

“No rush,” Aang says easily. “I think he’s willing to wait for you.”

Katara shushes him as Zuko reappears behind them. Aang draws Zuko into another conversation about bicycling, leaving Katara to her thoughts. 

—

They say goodbye to Aang the next morning. With both cars packed and ready to go, Katara gives Aang a long hug.

“Visit me in Caldera City?”

“Count me in,” Aang says, delighted. “It was nice to meet you, Zuko!”

Zuko, who had been awkwardly lingering by the Subaru, starts. He seems a little grumpy, and Katara is surprised. Zuko is usually a morning person.

Still, Zuko gives a polite goodbye to Aang and they set off.

“Phew!” Katara says as they exit the park. “Next stop, Kyoshi Island! Thanks for hanging out with Aang. I’m glad you got to meet him.”

“Yeah,” Zuko says, a slight hesitation in his voice.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Zuko...”

“You guys just seem really... close.”

“We broke up two years ago, I told you.”

Zuko makes a faint humming sound, and Katara feels a flash of annoyance.

“Aang was my friend before he was my boyfriend, and it took a lot of work to get back to being friends. If you’ve got a problem with the way I’m conducting myself, just spit it out.”

Katara knows that Zuko has a bit of a temper, but it has rarely been directed at her before. Usually, she has seen him angry about work, or someone inconsiderate he had encountered in his day. He had snapped at her occasionally when he was in a foul mood, but he had always swiftly apologized and they had moved on. But Katara had never been angry with him before, and something in Zuko seems to snap at her raised tone.

“I don’t have a problem,” he snarls angrily. 

“Then why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not being weird!”

“Yes, you are! What’s your problem with me?”

“Do whatever you want, Katara! I don’t care.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

They both fume in silence. Katara replays in the interaction in her head. She’s really not sure why they ended up yelling, but the longer the silence stretches, the madder she gets. What was Zuko trying to imply about her and Aang? Why couldn’t he just say what he meant?

Resentments she wasn’t entirely aware of pile up in her mind as she pulls the car onto the highway. Everything seems to annoy her: the way Zuko closes himself off, the way he allows himself to get sucked into stressful situations, the fact that Zuko almost never initiates any of the closeness between them. Katara wonders why she’s investing so much time and energy into a friendship with someone she sometimes isn’t even sure likes her very much.

As an hour passes, her anger morphs into something sad. For all these supposed flaws about Zuko, she can’t really bring herself to dislike him. The more rational side of her argues that there are many good reasons that Zuko is usually closed off and aloof — just one look at his terrible upbringing provides more than enough material for a lifetime of difficulty connecting to and trusting others — but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still mad at him. 

Katara does not enjoy her tendency to hold grudges, but her anger keeps her silent even as they trade driving shifts. When they stop for lunch, their heavy silence remains, and Katara can barely finish her sandwich. Her stomach feels tight with anger and disappointment. Zuko’s expression is unreadable; Katara wonders how long they will go on in this stalemate.

They reach the ferry to Kyoshi Island in the early afternoon, park the car in the holding deck and go their separate ways. When she takes a lap around the ship, she spots Zuko on his phone, kneading his forehead in his hand as he speaks. She guesses that he is talking to his uncle, and she hopes Iroh can sort things out. She still wants her apology.

They share a terse exchange over driving duties. It should be Katara’s turn, but Zuko insists that he drive. Fuming at the stupidity of their fight, Katara sulks in the passenger seat as the navigation on Zuko’s phone directs him.

“Hey, it said to turn right up here,” Katara says suddenly. “Why are you turning left?”

“Shortcut,” Zuko says curtly.

“No, it’s not. The GPS says it’s five minutes longer.”

“I used to live here, remember?” There is something strange about Zuko’s voice, but Katara can’t quite place it. “This is the better way to go.”

She’s about to respond in a sharp tone when a gaggle of high schoolers catches her eye. They are clearly on their way home from school, headed away from where Zuko had refused to turn.

Katara thinks back. Zuko has told her about most of his misdeeds in high school that had resulted in expulsion. She knew that he had also been kicked out of Kyoshi High, but she couldn’t remember why. Had he not told her?

They pull up to Suki’s small apartment building and squeeze the Subaru into a spot. Suki comes out to greet them, and she and Katara share an enthusiastic hug. Katara turns to introduce Zuko, but Suki is frowning at him, hands on her hips.

“Oh, there’s no need for an introduction,” Suki says in a severe tone. “I remember Zuko.”

Zuko flinches. Katara’s stomach sinks; she had worried that Aang and Zuko might not get along, but Suki’s reaction is surprising. Suki shares a look with Katara.

“I guess he didn’t tell you he burned down our school’s wood shop,” Suki says. “Destroyed my senior project before I could finish it.”

Katara stares at Zuko, who is looking determinedly away from her and Suki. Katara frowns; all of Zuko’s pranks and plots as a teenager had been petty and caused limited damage. Despite his skill with fire-building, purposeful arson didn’t really seem like Zuko’s style.

“What really happened?” Katara asks.

Zuko blinks, his steely facade cracking. He looks surprised that someone is taking his side. Katara eyes him curiously, and they gaze at each other for a long moment before Zuko hangs his head.

“I didn’t burn anything down,” he says morosely. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

This gets Suki’s attention. She stands up a little straighter and Katara almost smiles, imagining Suki in court, cross-examining a witness.

“Why were you in the wood shop?” she asks.

“Remember that guy, Lee Chang?”

“Ugh,” Suki says with disgust. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“He used to call me Scar Face,” Zuko says, his face empty of emotion. “He would light his cigarettes and flick them at me.”

Katara and Suki let out indignant yelps.

“He _what_?!”

“That fucking creep,” snarls Suki.

“I figured he wouldn’t be stupid enough to fling lit cigarettes around a bunch of sawdust, so I tried to hide out in the wood shop after school. But I underestimated how dumb he was, and it caught fire. I was trying to put it out when the alarm went off and they found me. The principal knew I had been kicked out of other schools before, so they just assumed I did it on purpose.”

Katara feels horrible. She wonders now if this had been the real source of their fight all day. Perhaps Zuko had not wanted to face a place of such pain, but he hadn’t wanted to change her plans. Her anger at at Zuko, while not entirely gone, ebbs away.

Suki moves forward, extending a hand to Zuko.

“Hey, I’m sorry I misjudged you. It’s nice to meet you properly, Zuko.”

Zuko takes her hand, his face more of a grimace than a smile.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Together, they unload most of the car into a corner of Suki’s small apartment. Katara and Suki will share her bed, while Zuko will sleep on a tiny pull-out couch. Before they go out for the evening, Katara takes a shower, letting the water wash away the dust and sunscreen caked on her. When she emerges, Zuko is pacing circles around the living room, biting his lip.

“Where’s Suki?” she asks, toweling her hair.

“Wanted to pick something up at the dry cleaner before they closed,” Zuko says. “Listen, about today… I’m sorry I was being such a jerk. I was worried about coming back here, and I should’ve just told you the truth.”

Katara’s lingering anger deflates entirely. She puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I got angry,” Katara says softly. 

“I deserved it,” Zuko replies.

Katara frowns.

“You don’t deserve to be yelled at, Zuko.”

“Sometimes I do,” he says, shrugging. “I was being insecure and taking it out on you.”

“Insecure?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says, looking down at his feet. “Nice people make me insecure.”

Katara is glad he can’t see the absolutely baffled look on her face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… I feel like I _try_ to be a good person, but I’m not really good at it. People like you and Aang… everyone just likes you guys right away. And being around the two of you, and seeing how you could still be such good friends even though I know you guys went through a rough patch… you’re a good person, Katara. I’m glad we’re friends, but sometimes I wonder why you want to hang out with me when you’ve got people like Aang in your life.”

Katara had wanted to Zuko to open up, but she certainly had not expected this confession.

“Zuko, you _are_ a good person. We met because you wanted to help me fix my bike, remember? And then we became friends because you were so nice to me when I came to the tea shop — you would ask me questions and talk to me even when I was grumpy after a long shift. I really like having you in my life, Zuko. You don’t ever need to question that. I know being back here must bring up some difficult memories, and that’s hard. But I’m your friend, no matter what you’ve been through, okay?”

Zuko raises his gaze to meet her eyes, his expression lined with the same fondness as a few nights before. Her heart gives an involuntary lurch of hope.

“You give really good pep talks.”

Katara laughs.

“Sokka calls it ‘Katara Mode.’”

Zuko grins, and for a moment time freezes. They gaze at each other, smiling softly in the fading afternoon light, until the front door swings open and Suki enters.

Zuko hurriedly goes to take his own shower, leaving Katara alone with Suki. Suki raises a brow.

“Weird vibe in here.”

Katara feigns ignorance, making a show of unpacking her dirty clothes.

“You wanna talk about it?” Suki asks, settling down on the couch.

Katara hesitates.

“If you guys are hooking up, don’t worry, I won’t tell Sokka.”

“We’re not hooking up,” Katara says quickly. She gives a groan and puts her head in her hands. “But I do really like him, and now we’re trapped together for another three and a half weeks, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Suki straightens with purpose, her eyes sharp.

“Do you think he feels the same way?”

“I have no idea,” Katara says. “Maybe? Aang seemed to think so.”

“Hmm,” Suki says, deep in thought. “Well, having observed the two of you for all of thirty seconds, I’m not gonna weigh in on this one yet. But he’d be crazy not to like you, Katara. You’re awesome.”

Katara settles next to Suki on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I’ve just been scared to do anything about it,” she admits. “Even if he does like me, I’m moving away soon. Long distance didn’t work for me and Aang, and I know you and Sokka are making work, but it must be really hard.”

“It _is_ hard,” Suki agrees. “But it’s worth it. And it’s not the worst thing in the world, either. We’re both pretty independent people, but we make a choice to be together rather than just forcing togetherness as a default. Not to say I want to be long-distance forever, but it does help us know where we stand, if that makes sense.”

Katara nods. She tips over to lean her head on Suki’s shoulder.

“Thanks for the advice,” she says quietly. “I’ll think about it.”

“I hope it works out,” Suki says, hugging an arm over Katara’s shoulders.

They sit in comfortable silence until Zuko emerges from the shower, dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt. Katara makes an effort to look nice — as much as she likes camping, she does get sick of wearing the same clothes repeatedly — and Suki is kind enough to lend her a dress for the evening. Suki is in her usual weekend attire: dark jeans, combat boots, and a tank top that shows off an ever-expanding sleeve of tattoos. When Sokka had first met Suki, the lone warrior figure, a woman with warpaint and fans, had caught his eye. Now the figure was surrounded by a scene of cherry blossoms and giant koi fish, a beautiful canvas of Kyoshi history inked on her skin.

Their trio sets out to bar with a happy hour for oysters, which Suki and Zuko are thrilled to shuck themselves. Although Katara does not consider herself a picky eater, she is a little intimidated by the shellfish; growing up hundreds of miles from the ocean and then being a student too poor to afford most nice meals meant she was unfamiliar with fresh oysters. Zuko, who Katara discovers harbors a great love of fresh seafood, cracks open the oysters with an almost gleeful smile.

“Did your uncle teach you how to do this?” she asks. It seems like a very Iroh-like pastime to indulge in fresh oysters.

Zuko hesitates for only a second before answering, “It was my mother, actually.”

Katara gives Zuko’s leg a little squeeze of comfort, and he gives her a gentle smile before going back to his task. Katara catches Suki’s eye, and blushes as Suki gives her a pointed look. Suki continues to shoot Katara glances as they work; like Katara, she notices that Zuko always shucks an oyster for Katara before he allows himself to have one.

Other than Suki’s furtive looks, the evening is quite pleasant. They fill out their meal of cheap oysters with baskets of french fries and cold beers. Zuko and Suki get involved in an heated discussion of the role of technology in social justice. Katara feels a fluttering in her stomach. She had always known Zuko was smart, but she didn’t often get to see him speak so passionately. She had to admit, listening to Zuko profess his ideals was deeply attractive to her. Occasionally she chimes into the conversation from a healthcare perspective, but mostly she nurses her beer and watches Suki and Zuko volley ideas across the table.

When they are sated with shellfish, they head home for an early night. All of them are usually early risers, and they collectively decide to save their energy for the next day. Katara has a long list of things she wants to do, and it will be best on a full night’s rest.

—

Saturday morning brings a crisp, cloudless day, and the three of them share a quick breakfast and coffee before heading to Suki’s nearby gym. Katara heads straight for the pool — her preferred exercise — while Suki and Zuko hit the weight room together. Katara tries to hide her amusement; after their rough start, it seems that the two of them get along very well. 

When she’s done with her swimming, she showers and goes to collect her friends. They are still in the weight room, the two of them standing next to a large punching bag. Suki fires off a series of rapid punches and kicks, then steps back so Zuko can imitate her. Katara feels a flash of arousal at the look of concentration on Zuko’s face. His focus is deadly and primal, striking the bag with great force. When he steps back, he spots Katara and gives her a shy wave with his boxing glove. Somehow, this is even more attractive than his combative side, and she tries not to smile like a lovestruck fool.

The day is spent hopping all over the small island. Katara drags her friends to the local art museum, to a farmer’s market for lunch, and to dozens of alleyways decorated with Kyoshi’s famous murals. Suki provides some history, while Zuko mostly follows in silence, occasionally pausing to snap a picture. Katara, who likes having her picture taken, happily poses in front of the sights. Once or twice, she tries to cajole Zuko into being the subject of a picture, which he always refuses.

“Come on, Zuko! Don’t you want to remember this trip? It’s just one picture.”

“I can remember being here without picture proof that I was in front of this mural,” he points out.

“Then why take a picture with me in it and not just the mural?”

Zuko shrugs.

“You look happy,” he responds.

“Okay, geniuses,” Suki says, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t I just take a picture with both of you?”

Zuko hesitates, but Katara grabs his hand, smiling for the picture.

“I still don’t see why I have to be in the picture,” he grumbles under his breath.

“You said you were taking the picture because I looked happy, but I’m happy because I’m here with you,” she explains.

The fond expression on Zuko’s face returns again. It makes her feel a little weak in the knees. She could get used to being looked at like this.

Suki, like the excellent friend that she is, says nothing about this interaction, but moves to take a picture from a second angle. When the three of them duck into a coffee shop for an afternoon pick-me-up, Suki rounds on Katara the minute Zuko excuses himself to visit the bathroom.

“Holy shit, Katara. That guy is crazy about you.”

Katara blushes into her macchiato.

“You don’t know that,” she mumbles.

“Hello?” she says, pulling out her phone. “Look at this picture and tell me that is not the face of a man who is in love with you.”

Suki has always had a good eye for art and photography, and Katara could not have asked for a better picture of her and Zuko. The composition and lighting brings the two of them into focus against the backdrop of swirling colors. Neither of them are looking into the camera; Zuko is gazing down at Katara as she smiles back up at him, oblivious to their surroundings. Katara is as transfixed by the photo of Zuko as she is by the man himself. 

Somehow, seeing his expression through the lens of the camera solidifies something in her mind. She has been holding herself back, trying to rationalize that Zuko probably did not want to be more than friends. While this photo was by no means proof that Zuko felt the same way about her, it did strongly suggest that he at least harbored some interest. All of the hints Katara has been trying to ignore for months, telling herself it was just friendly behavior — saving her favorite pastries for her, sending her pictures of cute animals when she was stressed, long dinners and conversations — may have meant more than that. She knows how shy Zuko can be about emotional subjects. Admitting he was interested in someone would certainly not be a step he took lightly.

Katara hastily hands Suki back her phone as Zuko returns to the table, but she is too late. Zuko catches a glimpse and Suki, with a slight smirk in Katara’s direction, holds it out for Zuko’s inspection. His lips quirk up in the faintest hint of a smile.

“Thanks, Suki,” he says, settling down with his coffee. “That’s a really nice picture.”

Suki busies herself sending the photo via text. Zuko catches Katara’s eye and his smile, soft and shy, grows. It is the simplest gesture, but Katara feels positively aflame with excitement. Her heart pounds, hope high in her chest. Zuko holds her gaze, and his eyes seem to darken. His expression loses its shyness and instead is replaced by a hunger. Katara marvels at how absolutely aroused she is by just looking at him. 

The doubt she has been feeling ebbs away. It seems impossible that to think that she can go much longer without confessing the depth of her attraction to Zuko. Moreover, she feels increasingly sure that her affections may even be returned. They continue to stare at each other, tension mounting between them, until Suki looks up from her phone and asks, “So, are we sticking with the usual plan tonight?”

On the rare occasions Katara has ventured to Kyoshi to visit, the ‘usual plan’ with Suki is to go out to a karaoke bar. Accompanied by a gang of Suki’s lawyer friends, who jokingly called themselves the ‘Kyoshi Warriors,’ they would spend the evening belting out old pop songs and showtunes. Sokka had always been a great fan of this activity, but Katara feels fairly confident that Zuko is not going to be thrilled.

“As long as you don’t make me sing, I’m down,” Zuko says, shrugging.

“Good enough for me,” Suki says. “Okay, Katara. What’s next on that insane list of yours?”

Katara had, in fact, scheduled in a break, so they adjourn to Suki’s apartment to relax before dinner. Suki steals a chance to FaceTime Sokka, but after twenty minutes, hands the phone off to Katara.

“Hey, sis.” Sokka’s slightly tinny voice echos though the small apartment, but the picture is crystal clear. “How’s the trip going?”

“Great,” she says, settling on the couch and tucking her feet under her. “Serpent’s Pass was incredible. Lots of great hiking. And then we met up with Aang which was really fun.”

At the word ‘we,’ Sokka seems to perk up.

“And how’s traveling with Zuko?”

“Great,” Katara repeats, acutely aware of the fact that Zuko is sitting at the opposite end of the couch. He is doing an admirable job of ignoring her to give her privacy, but she can see him tense a bit when his name is mentioned.

“Is he around? Do I get to meet the famous Zuko?”

Katara rolls her eyes, but scoots across the couch, wriggling herself into position next to Zuko. She holds the phone up so that both of their faces fit in the small screen. Sokka grins widely as Zuko looks sheepish.

“Sokka, this is Zuko. Zuko, this is my annoying brother who didn’t want me to come on this trip.”

“Hey!” Sokka squawks. “I didn’t say that, just that it would be _safer_ to have a friend around. And look, it all worked out. Nice to meet you, by the way,” he adds to Zuko.

Zuko nods a hello, still looking a bit nervous. Katara smiles.

“Zuko is coming to his first Kyoshi Warrior’s karaoke party tonight,” she says.

Sokka lets out a groan of jealousy.

“Aw, man, I wish I was there! Zuko, buddy, you gotta do me a solid and sing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ for me. It’s tradition.”

Zuko’s lips quirk up, amused.

“I’ve been promised I won’t have to sing,” he rasps.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sokka frowns. “Katara, please, knock some sense into this friend of yours who doesn’t seem to appreciate the finer things in life.”

“Like 80’s power ballads?” she teases.

Sokka nods sagely.

“Yes, exactly. How can I trust this guy to protect you in the woods if he can’t even sing about a man and his will to survive?”

Katara is ready to fire back that she is perfectly capable of protecting herself, but Zuko lets out a snort of laughter, and Sokka looks pleased. Sokka asks Zuko a few questions about himself and Katara tries not to squirm too much. It feels like she’s introducing a new boyfriend to her brother, and, with the exception of Aang, that type of meeting has never gone well before. Katara suspects that Suki has not told Sokka that Katara likes Zuko, or Sokka would be much more hostile about his questions. 

The conversation wraps up with Katara promising to call in three days time, and she gets up to hand the phone back to Suki in her bedroom.

“Sorry about that,” Katara says to Zuko as she settles back next to him on the couch. “My brother can be a little overprotective.”

“It seems like he really cares about you,” Zuko says earnestly. “It’s nice you two are so close.”

She thinks about Zuko and Azula, and her heart flips. On a whim, she dives towards him, snaking her arms around his middle. She remembers how he had flinched the first time she hugged him, but now he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around her. They sit entwined for several long minutes before they hear Suki end the phone call, and they break apart. Katara catches Zuko’s eye before Suki enters; there is no mistaking the fondness in his eyes, and her heart leaps.

“Let’s rock and roll, people!” Suki says enthusiastically, oblivious to the weighted moment happening on her couch as she strides into the room. “Katara, do you want to borrow another dress?”

Katara follows Suki to her closet, where Suki reveals a short, red wrap dress that Katara would normally never wear. She’s not against revealing clothing, but dressing modestly is pretty much a habit at this point. Still, karaoke night has always been a time for Katara to let loose, and she can’t resist the chance for one last test.

“Zuko is going to freak out when he sees you in this,” Suki whispers. “And then you’ll have no excuse not to tell him how you feel.”

Katara tries to look annoyed by Suki’s meddling, but in truth, she’s grateful to have someone rooting for her. Suki even helps Katara style her hair — usually, Katara just throws it back into an all-purpose braid — and by the end of their primping, it cascades softly in dark waves over her shoulders. Katara even takes care to put on some makeup. It’s not her usual style, but the Kyoshi Warriors usually go all out, and Katara knows that even if she’s dressed up, her outfit will be the tamest by far.

When they emerge from their preparations, Zuko is waiting on the couch, his fingers drumming against his knees nervously. Suki, ever the wingwoman, doubles back to the bathroom under the guise of snapping a photo of her outfit to send to Sokka. She gives Katara a subtle wink as Zuko rises to face her.

“You look really nice,” Zuko says, his voice more of a rasp than ever. Katara tries to act naturally and not play with her hair.

“I forgot,” she says suddenly. “Some of the people we hang out with like to drink — is that okay with you? I mean, I know we had some beers last night, but…”

Zuko’s expression softens.

“Yeah, that’s okay,” he says quietly. “I don’t mind if other people drink much. I don’t really like to much, but you should do what you want.”

“Okay,” Katara says, wondering if she has overstepped.

Zuko seems to sense her hesitation and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks for asking,” he adds. “It’s nice of you to check.”

Katara nods and Suki reappears. The three of them make their way across town for a cheap dinner of tacos as Suki’s friends join them in increasing numbers. Katara knows most of the Kyoshi Warrior crew by now, but she sticks close to Zuko most of the evening anyway. As she sips her second cocktail, he teases her by trying to guess her karaoke song of choice.

“‘A Whole New World?’” he tries. “‘Shake it Off?’”

Katara scoffs.

“Really, those are your guesses? Disney music and Taylor Swift?”

“I mean, you _did_ recite a shocking amount of the Lion King on our drive here when you saw that billboard.”

“Okay, but in my defense, everyone likes Disney music. Even you, I bet,” she adds, poking his side as he looks at her skeptically. “You’ll just have to wait and find out what I’m going to sing.”

“Fair enough,” he says, grinning. 

Katara does not usually drink very much, so imbibing two cocktails is more than enough to get her singing. Zuko crams himself into a relatively safe corner of the private room while everyone else crowds around the microphones, eager to play their favorite songs. As the visiting guest, Katara is given the first choice, and she and Suki launch into their shared favorite, ‘Like a Prayer.’ She can vaguely see Zuko smirking in the background, but most of her focus is on her choreographed dance routine with Suki. This is not the first time they have performed this song together. The only thing missing is Sokka voguing in the front in time with the music.

Katara gets up a few more times to sing with Suki’s friends, mostly for Whitney Houston songs, which she supposes is pretty close to Zuko’s guess of her favorite ballads. About an hour in, the liquid courage hits a peak and she grabs the microphone to perform Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s ‘Baby Got Back.’ The Kyoshi Warriors roar with approval, laughing and clapping along. When she hands off the mic to Suki — who insists on following her with a performance of Shaggy’s ‘It Wasn’t Me’ — she slinks to the back corner for some water. Zuko holds out a bottle, a grin stretched across his face.

“Very impressive,” he says. The noise of the room means he has to bend to whisper into her ear. He’s close enough that she can smell a hint of soap on him.

“Please tell me you don’t have any photographic or video footage of that,” she says, leaning up to respond.

Zuko shakes his head, his laugh barely audible over Suki’s rapping.

“Next time,” he says with a sly smile.

The night reaches a peak before midnight, but Katara feels herself flagging. Even with her scheduled afternoon break, it had been a long day. The crowd starts to debate who should perform next when a low guitar line thuds. Katara springs to her feet and moves swiftly to the front.

Zuko is awkwardly clutching a microphone, looking nervous. He spots Katara and gives a tight smile as the song opens.

“ _Risin’ up, back on the street. Did my time, took my chances._ ”

Zuko is good at many things, but singing does not appear to be a strong suit. Certainly, the song does not flatter his deep voice, but Katara is thrilled to jump in. She grabs the spare microphone, and soon the whole crowd is singing loudly enough that Katara and Zuko can barely be heard.

“ _It’s the Eye of the Tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight!_ ”

Katara grins as she belts out the song. She slots herself against Zuko’s side and he slides his free arm around her waist. He looks as happy as she has ever seen him, and her heart soars. It’s only the presence of half of Kyoshi’s lawyers that stops her from reaching up to kiss him.

Together with Suki, they stumble back to her apartment. Katara reluctantly changes out of the red dress, but Suki makes her pack it into her suitcase.

“I never wear it anyway,” Suki says. “Please, it will be better served getting you laid than hanging in my closet.”

Katara blushes and tries to half-heartedly protest, but she’s already folding it, fitting it neatly into her bag. She crawls into Suki’s bed, and they both eagerly fall asleep.


	4. Three Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating going up for this one. Enjoy ;)

The ride on the ferry away from Kyoshi Island could not be more different than the ride in. The weather is atrocious, but Katara is infinitely happier. She and Zuko watch the cold drizzle from the covered seating area, sipping some truly terrible green tea that Zuko had procured them from the concession stand.

“Don’t tell uncle we actually drank this,” Zuko says, grimacing. “He would be so disappointed we ruined our palates with this slop.”

“We had coffee yesterday, too. Is he going to even let us back into the tea shop after this betrayal?”

Zuko grins.

“Uncle is fine with coffee provided that it is fair-trade and used for the purpose of staying awake. But tea is supposed to be for enjoying and this tea is… not enjoyable,” he says, frowning at his cup.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she smirks.

Although it’s the coldest day of their trip so far, Katara feels cozy and warm. They disembark and drive two hours to Omashu National Park. It’s a small park, relatively speaking, easily explored in a day or two. They set up their tent as usual, fix up a quick lunch, and take off for a hike. The main feature of the park is the Cave of Two Lovers, where they are able to rent hard hats and, using their camping headlamps, set off to explore the darkness. It’s a perfect day for the caves as the drizzle turns into rain upon their arrival. 

The park is uncrowded, and they are often alone in the caves. Katara would almost find the darkness creepy, but it helps to hear Zuko’s soft breath beside her, occasionally catching glimpses of him in the darkness. They stop at regular intervals and turn off their headlamps. There are areas where dim light comes in through small shafts in the ceiling, giving the rocks lining the cave a faint, greenish glow. It’s peaceful and quiet.

When they emerge from the cave, the rain has stopped, and the soothing scent of wet earth fills Katara’s lungs. Their camping supplies are thankfully still dry — most of their gear was still in the car, or safe under the tarp on their tent. A bundle of firewood Zuko had stashed in the back of the car provides the fuel for their evening campfire, and they eat their meal mostly in silence. They place their camping chairs as close as possible to share a large, wool blanket. If she wanted, Katara could easily slip her hand into Zuko’s.

As they watch the flames dance, Katara pulls out her guidebook and reads aloud about the history of the park.

“Apparently the cave and the town were named for a pair of lovers named Oma and Shu. They were from warring towns, and they would use these tunnels as a secret meeting place,” Katara says.

“Sounds risky.”

“I guess. But it would be worth it if you really loved someone, right?”

“Have you been in love before?”

Katara starts. It’s the most personal question Zuko has ever asked her. She wonders if that means she will be permitted to ask it back.

“Yes,” she responds. “With Aang. But that was a long time ago.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Zuko is silent for a long time, and Katara can feel her heart beating anxiously in her chest. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Zuko turns to look at her, his face shadowed from the firelight. She leans forward, like a moth drawn to a flame. Then his lips are on hers, and darkness falls as her eyes slide shut.

It is a long, slow kiss. As one of them begins to pull away, the other follows, and they push and pull, their breath quickening. Katara can vaguely feel the arm of chair digging into her side, the blanket sliding off of their legs as they shift closer to each other, but she can’t bring herself to care. Not when Zuko is kissing her like this, not when he is giving her little groans of encouragement as she slides her tongue in his mouth.

Somewhat abruptly, the kissing ceases and Zuko leaps from his chair. Confused, Katara blinks up at him until he grabs her hands and hoists her up.

“Stupid chairs getting in the way,” he grumbles, and then his lips are on hers again, hands sliding around her waist.

The world is quiet save for the sounds of the crackling fire and an owl hooting in the distance. Katara curls into Zuko’s warmth, their blanket discarded below them. She yanks off her gloves and runs her hands over Zuko’s face. He gives a sharp intake of breath as she traces over his scar, and she kisses him more ardently for it.

She’s not sure how long they are pressed together, but things escalate at a steady pace. Katara slips her hands inside Zuko’s coat, and his hands wander to her lower back. She moves her hands down, fingers toying at the hem of his shirt, before she slides them up the plane of his chest. Zuko follows suit over her sweater, and she sighs as he gently teases her breasts. She grinds against him, trying to get as close as possible to the source of her desire. She can feel his hard length pressing against her through his pants, his hot breath on her neck.

Something shifts, and they both take a step back, red-faced, but not ashamed. They share a nervous laugh before stepping close again, hands entwined.

“I really like you, Zuko. I’ve been thinking about tell you, but I didn’t know if you…”

“I like you, too. A lot. Really a lot.”

Katara grins. She likes that Zuko gets a little flustered around her. She presses forward for a soft kiss that lingers a little longer than originally intended.

When she pulls away again, something uncomfortable settles over her. Her mind starts to race. What did this mean? Were they together now? Was this just an extended vacation hookup? She hadn’t even thought to pack any condoms… or was she jumping too far ahead?

“Katara, I can practically hear you thinking.”

She gives a little groan of frustration, and Zuko pulls her comfortably into his arms.

“Hey, I’m just happy that I’m not the one overthinking things for once,” he rasps into her ear.

“How are you so calm?” Her voice is muffled against Zuko’s warm chest. She feels him shrug.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get a chance to kiss you. Whatever happens now, I’m just happy I’m here.”

Katara leans up to kiss him again. She wants to comment on how sweet he is being, but she figures he will try to deflect, so she just hums happily against his lips.

They are distracted for a while, gently kissing and caressing each other. She’s not tired, but they had planned on getting an early start the next morning, so they reluctantly break away to clean up around camp before bedtime.

Squeezing into adjacent sleeping bags is awkward enough under the best of circumstances, but now Katara isn’t sure where they stand. She could try flirtatiously opening up her sleeping bag, enticing him inside, but it’s the coldest night yet and she doesn’t want to explain she got hypothermia from trying to hook up with her crush. 

Zuko zips himself snugly into his own sleeping bag and rolls to face her.

“Look, you know I’m terrible at talking, but we probably should, right?”

She thinks back to the very first time they met, when he had been offering to help her with her bike, how he had looked poised to flee. Zuko’s body language is the same now. It’s obvious he’d like to avoid this awkward conversation, but he’s forcing himself to do it anyway. Katara wriggles over to kiss him, and when she pulls away, he looks considerably more relaxed.

“I know we’re stuck together for the next few weeks, and that’s pretty intense,” Katara says. “I really like you, but I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you just want this to be… I don’t know, a fling or something, I could be okay with that.”

“Is that what you want? A fling?”

Katara swallows and takes a deep breath.

“No. I want more than that. But I’m leaving soon, and I don’t want you to feel tied down.”

Zuko gives her a soft smile before pressing his lips to trace up her neck. She closes her eyes and savors the sensation.

“I want to be with you,” Zuko says, face still buried against her neck. “As long as you want. I _really_ like you, Katara.”

“I’m moving away soon,” she says, her voice cracking.

“I know,” Zuko sighs. “I still want to be with you. Wherever you are.”

Katara wriggles halfway out of her sleeping bag to give Zuko a hug. He responds in kind, and their tiny tent is filled with the sound of swishing fabric as they struggle to hold each other close in the tight space. They are entwined for several minutes before Katara shivers and Zuko reluctantly lets her go.

“We can talk about this more tomorrow, right?” she says, as they settle back into their own sleeping bags.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to be with you, too. Wherever you are.”

He presses one last warm kiss to her lips and they shut their eyes to sleep.

—

As usual, Zuko is already awake when Katara opens her eyes. He is still swaddled in his sleeping bag, although one arm pokes out, holding up his Kindle to read as he waits for Katara to wake. She rolls over to get a better look at him and he turns to face her.

“Hi,” she says shyly, thinking of the night before.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice even huskier than usual. 

Katara can’t resist. With some inelegant thrashing to free herself from the confines of her sleeping bag, she moves to kiss Zuko. She can feel his lips break into a smile. He turns to press her back down into her sleeping mat, and she gives a happy hum against his lips.

Sex in a tent is an acquired skill, and although Katara had picked up several moves in her travels with Aang, she would rather like her first time with Zuko to provide for a full range of motion. Still, that doesn’t mean they can’t reach a delicious level of teasing.

Most of Katara’s previous boyfriends had been rather eager to get to sex with as little foreplay as possible. This wasn’t necessarily from a selfish standpoint — Haru and Aang had genuinely just been excited to be with her, although Jet had certainly thought foreplay was a waste of time — but Katara really did love to be teased like this. She had never asked for it very much, preferring to make her partner happy at the small sacrifice of a few minutes of pleasure. Zuko, however, seems in no rush at all. Every sigh or delighted squeal Katara lets out causes Zuko to double his efforts, and he nips, kisses, and licks his way around her exposed patches of skin. It’s still quite cold, so they stay mostly clothed, but Katara has hardly ever felt more aroused, even wearing her frumpy long underwear and socks. They make an almighty racket: the loud nylon fabric of the sleeping bags being moved about, the squeaking of the plasticky air mattresses beneath them. They pull away from each other, breathless and grinning.

“I, uh…” she starts, blushing. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“Oh. Me neither,” Zuko says, a matching shade of pink. “I wasn’t… I mean, we don’t have to…”

“We can pick some up today in town,” Katara says with a casualness she doesn’t quite feel. “If you want.”

Zuko’s eyes are dark and hungry, and he moves to place a warm, open-mouthed kiss on her neck.

“Good idea,” he rasps as she tries — and fails — to suppress a shiver of excitement.

They rise shakily out of the tent. Katara tries to ignore the rather obvious tenting of Zuko’s pants and the wetness between her own legs. But her excitement colors all of her actions: making breakfast, folding the tent, packing up the car — all she can think about is how much she wants to fuck Zuko. If the looks he is giving her are any indication, he is thinking along the same lines as her. There is no shyness in his gaze, only heat. Katara has to remind herself several times that the drive to the next town is only two hours, and that there will surely be a drugstore there with condoms. She had planned an itinerary of exploring the tiny town that afternoon, but she would much rather explore Zuko instead.

They drive in tense, but not uncomfortable, silence. When they get into cell service range, Zuko directs Katara to go into his phone to book their hotel for the evening.

“There weren’t really hotels, but there were a few Airbnb’s that I bookmarked. Pick the one that looks the best to you.”

There is something strange about his voice, a forced casualness that Katara recognizes from her own behavior earlier. When she opens the application, she sees why. There are three bookmarked apartments, two with two beds, and one with a single, king-sized bed. Katara remembers with a jolt that Zuko must have made this list back in Kyoshi, before they had revealed their feelings for each other. 

“I like the last one,” she says, watching Zuko’s reaction. “Can I book it?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says, still with a casual tone. “Thanks.”

She busies herself completing the transaction, but out of the corner of her eye, she catches a fleeting expression of joy break across Zuko’s face. He schools it into something more tame when Katara looks up.

Katara can’t resist laughing.

“Okay, we’re being ridiculous,” she says, reaching over to squeeze Zuko’s leg. “We’re both adults here. Let’s just be honest and admit that we’re going to spend the rest of the day fucking.”

Zuko lets out a bark of laughter.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the word ‘fuck’ before,” he teases.

“Well, get used to it. I’m going to be saying it a lot today.”

Zuko flushes bright red. She can feel his leg flex under her hand. Seized by her own boldness, she traces her hand up.

“Mmm, seems like you like it when I say ‘fuck.’”

“ _Agni_ , Katara,” he breathes. “We’re not going to make it into town if you keep doing that.”

She laughs and pulls her hand away, joy and desire pounding in her veins. 

The car ride feels interminable, despite it being one of the shorter drives of the trip. They arrive an hour before they are able to check into their Airbnb, so they make do by exploring the small town. Katara can barely remember anything they look at, just the feeling of pure happiness at having Zuko’s hand wrapped around hers. Most of their stops to admire the local architecture or interesting shop windows are really just excuses to kiss more. Katara has zero regrets.

They make one last important stop before checking in. At the drug store, Katara and Zuko break off to get supplies. They meet at the cash register and Zuko, discreetly holding a box of condoms and a bag of coffee grounds, snorts when he spots Katara.

“We need car snacks!” she says defensively. A gallon of Goldfish crackers might be overkill, but Katara has a tendency to buy in bulk when she’s feeling a bit anxious. 

The cashier, a bored-looking college student, doesn’t bat an eye at the strange combination of items and Katara and Zuko set out to find their home for the afternoon.

Aside from the large bed — and the implication that they would share it — Katara had been drawn to this location over the other two. It was on the top floor of an old building, overlooking a small park. There were some flowering trees in bloom, and with the windows cracked open, Katara can hear the light sprinkling of rain and the rush of tires over wet pavement.

She and Zuko settle in with their usual routine, each of them taking a quick shower to wash away the dust and mud from camping. They unpack and repack materials as needed, but they quickly accomplish this task and sit facing each other on the floor, surrounded by their many bags of gear.

“So…” Katara says uncertainly. “Do you want to…?”

“Yes! But, I mean, if you don’t…”

“I do! But if you don’t…”

They stare at each other for a moment and both burst into laughter.

“Okay,” Katara says, once she has caught her breath. “New plan. Let’s say what we want, no apologies.”

Zuko nods. Katara raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to proceed.

“Oh, right! Um, I like you. I want to be with you. I am willing to take it slow if you want, but I don’t really feel the need to. You already know me better than anyone I’ve ever been with. Any hesitation on my part is because I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Zuko, even in his most awkward and uncomfortable moments, has a way of making her insides melt. She scoots across the floor to embrace him, kissing his scarred cheek.

“My turn?”

Zuko nods, eyes fixed on hers.

“I like you, too. I’ve been really scared to make a move because I value our friendship, and last time I dated a friend… well, you know about me and Aang. I would hate to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Katara,” Zuko whispers. Katara pulls back to look at him skeptically and Zuko huffs a laugh. “Seriously, I’m not going to let that happen. I don’t care if we’re together non-stop for the next three weeks, or if we live in different cities. I think it’s worth it.” 

He pauses, and his faces pinches a bit.

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s worth it…”

“I do!” Katara interjects fiercely. “Of course, I do. I…”

But she finds it impossible to think of any explanation for her fear. In fact, the longer Zuko holds her, the more it seems to slip away. She draws a deep breath.

“I’m in,” she says finally, her face set with determination. “Let’s do it. Let’s be together.”

Zuko raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“Sounds very official. Should we shake on it?”

“Mmm… how about we seal it with a kiss instead?”

It’s cheesy, but Zuko’s face lights up as he leans in to kiss her. One kiss leads into another, and soon their hands are sliding under clothes as they roll onto the floor.

“You know,” Zuko says, gasping as he pulls away. “There’s probably a more comfortable place to do this.”

“Right,” Katara agrees. “Although our camp clothes are kinda dirty. We should take them off first.”

Zuko’s eyes darken and he kisses her hungrily. It takes several more minutes for them to actually pry themselves off of the floor, although they do accomplish some of the task of disrobing.

Katara sheds her remaining layers, looking up in time to catch Zuko watching her as she unhooks her bra. He pauses, distracted from his own clothing, to watch her until she is fully naked. She smirks and saunters onto the bed.

“You gonna join me, or what?”

Zuko peels off his clothes so quickly, Katara barely gets a glimpse of him before he is on her again, kissing every inch of exposed skin. She settles back onto the bed as he kisses down her torso, sighing. He moves down to her inner thigh and presses his mouth against her. She gasps and twitches.

“Sorry,” Zuko says, pulling away. “Got carried away. Is this okay?”

She nods, although she does feel some trepidation. This isn’t exactly her favorite position — Jet had always referred to it as a ‘waste of time.’ Even though intellectually she knew this idea was sexist and wrong, she could never quite relax knowing someone had their face buried against her in such an intimate way. What if Zuko didn’t like it, or he was just doing it to humor her? What if…

But Katara quickly stops wondering what if because Zuko is moving his tongue against her in ways that make her lose her breath. He seems to be cataloging her every minuscule reaction, repeating or avoiding maneuvers as needed. She finds herself moaning, panting, writhing under him. When his name leaves her lips, she can feel him smiling against her, which only arouses her more. He slides a finger into her, and then another. Katara cannot control herself any longer; she comes with a shout, legs trembling around Zuko’s head.

She sags back against the pillows, staring wide-eyed at Zuko as he pulls away. He rubs at his mouth with the back of his hand before he leans in to kiss her, impossibly soft, on her neck.

“ _Tui and La,_ ” she sighs. 

Zuko gives a smirk before resuming his kissing. He is distracted by her breasts for several extremely pleasurable minutes before Katara has the wherewithal to flip him over. She hears his sharp intake of breath, and she can feel his cock pressing eagerly into her.

“Do you like it when I take charge?” she teases.

“Yes,” he breathes, looking awestruck.

As much as Katara likes to be teased in bed, she also enjoys being the one in control. She grabs hold of Zuko's cock and he gives a needy groan. She feels a surge of power and slides her hand over him as he squirms. She lowers her head to take him into her mouth.

“ _Agni,_ Katara,” Zuko groans, fisting the sheets in his hands.

Katara hums happily, thrilled at this turn of events. She bobs her head up and down, moving her hand in time. This usually isn’t her favorite position either, but it’s a fun place to start and she’s already had one earth-shattering orgasm today. She can play around for a bit.

Zuko, however, gently pries her away after only a minute or so.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “But you are incredibly hot, and I am about to lose it.”

The idea that Zuko is about to come because of her makes part of her brain short circuit. She grabs the box of condoms from the bedside table and hands him one. When he’s ready, she moves over him again.

“Want me to be on top?” she asks.

Zuko’s eyes flash gold.

“Fuck, yes.”

An involuntarily moan escapes her as she slides onto Zuko’s cock. It’s been a long time since she did this — it feels even better than she remembered. She could get lost in the sensation.

Then Zuko starts talking to her and she _really_ loses her mind.

“You are so beautiful,” he groans as he ruts up into her. “You feel so _good_.”

Katara can barely pant in response. Zuko thrusts into her from below, tweaking a nipple with one hand while the other holds her waist. Katara’s eyelids are heavy, half-closed. She feels excitement building within her. The more Zuko talks, the more turned on she gets.

“Fuck, Katara, you are so incredible. _Agni_ , I never want to stop fucking you.”

“Oh, fuck, Zuko!”

The force of her orgasm catches her off guard, and she pitches forward onto Zuko. She can feel him grinning against her neck as she catches her breath.

“I think you killed me,” she mumbles into a pillow. “I think I’m dead now.”

“How unfortunate,” he says, laughing.

“Mmm, it’s okay. It’s a good way to go.”

Zuko laughs again, and she manages to hoist herself into a slightly more dignified position.

“Wanna flip me over and have your way with me?” she suggests, waggling her eyebrows.

Zuko face grows hungry again; she can actually feel him getting even harder inside of her.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” she says, rolling off of him and onto her back.

“What do you want?” he rasps, moving to position himself.

“I want you to come so hard you forget your own name,” she says, smiling up at him sweetly.

Zuko swears, sliding into her slowly.

“This isn’t going to last very long,” he warns.

“Good,” she replies. “You’ve already given me two of the best orgasms in my life; it’s your turn to catch up.”

Zuko lasts barely thirty seconds, but Katara really doesn’t mind. She likes watching him fall apart, likes knowing that she’s the one who has gotten him so excited. It seems like a very favorable feedback loop: she likes being the object of his affection, and he likes being the one to make her feel good. Definitely something she can work with.

They take care of the usual post-coital necessities before curling up in the big bed together. A light rain is still drizzling outside, but neither of them has much inclination to spend the day outside anyway. They eventually make it out for dinner, but not before another particularly heated round of sex that makes Katara blush every time she remembers it. 

They’re seated side-by-side in a café facing the street, and Zuko uses the opportunity to whisper things in her ear whenever the waiter disappears.

“The mirror thing was hot,” he rasps so quietly she can barely hear him. “Did you like watching me, or knowing that I like watching you?”

Katara tries not to squirm.

“Both,” she whispers.

“I guess that standing position will be pretty useful when we’re camping and can’t fit in the tent. Would you want that? Me fucking you from behind in the middle of the woods?”

“Zuko.”

Zuko immediately backs off, looking stricken.

“Sorry, too much?”

Katara looks around for any eavesdroppers before leaning up to his ear.

“If you keep talking like that, we aren’t going to leave this restaurant without you fucking me like that again.”

Zuko gets their dessert to go, and they leave a big tip. Neither of them says much until they’re back in the apartment, where they do plenty of talking, none of it suitable to be repeated in polite company.

—

Katara is deliriously, deliciously, stupidly happy for the next three weeks.

There are many reasons for this aside from Zuko: the late spring weather is beautiful and bright, they get to spend their days outdoors in nature, and she barely thinks about work once. But the truth is, Zuko’s presence enhances all of these features, and adds several more.

For one thing, they have a truly ridiculous amount of sex. Katara had certainly gone through phases like this with previous boyfriends — it was basically the entirety of her relationship with Jet, after all — but it had never felt quite so exciting or so intimate. The thrill of their encounters is tempered with the familiarity of their friendship. They still carry on similar conversations about the future, their families, their hopes and dreams, only now they are often naked, or at least will be by the end of the conversation. There are several moments that Katara blushes to think about. She hadn’t considered how much she’d enjoy having sex outdoors, or the possibility that Zuko could drive a car with one hand while bringing her to orgasm with the other on a quiet country road. Nor had she imagined that they could so easily position themselves to have secret, quiet sex in one of their double hammocks, or that she would give Zuko a hand job while snorkeling on their three-day excursion to the beach. But every time Katara thinks of one of these moments, it just makes her want to seek out Zuko and create a new memory. He is always eager to oblige, and, she discovers, quite creative.

Their beach trip is one of Katara’s favorites. It’s perfectly timed in a heat wave, and they spend their days in the cool surf. The first time Katara steps out in a bikini, Zuko stares at her, awestruck.

“You’ve seen me naked at least two dozen times at this point,” she teases as he continues to admire her. She walks with an extra sashay and is gratified by the look of desire on Zuko’s face.

“Did you go to the Upper Rim in Caldera City on your visit?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says, confused at this change of subject. “Why?”

“It’s where I grew up.”

Katara’s eyebrows rise. She had assumed Zuko had grown up in a wealthy family, so it should not have been a surprise. Still, she wonders what he would think to see her family home. He seems oblivious to her reaction, still eyeing her mostly naked form.

“Every morning, my mom would walk me to school and she would say ‘ _look at that beautiful view_.’ Every day, no matter what, even if it was raining. Drove me nuts. I always told her it was the same ocean — why did she always need to compliment it? — but then she told me, ‘ _you must never take for granted the beautiful things in your life_.’”

Zuko raises his gaze to meet hers. His smile is soft, and her heart flips.

“I finally understand what she meant.”

It is the first time Katara realizes she loves him. Her heart is bursting to tell him, but she just kisses him instead, and drags him into the surf for some more adventurous activities.

Not to say that the entire trip is smooth sailing. They get into one particularly nasty fight on a long drive when Zuko is cut off by a pickup truck, and he angrily tailgates the driver for a mile before Katara breaks.

“Pull over,” she says coldly.

“It’s fine, I —“

“Pull over _now!_ ”

She furiously takes the keys and gets behind the wheel, driving the next four hours straight by herself. They unpack in what was supposed to be a romantic hotel room in icy silence. Katara can barely even look at Zuko, the dark cloud of his anger filling the room with thick tension. They each shower and unpack, but when it comes time to get dinner, neither of them makes a move. Finally, Zuko’s stomach lets out a loud rumble, and Katara sighs.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she says quietly. “I was really scared.”

Zuko looks horrified.

“Katara, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I shouldn’t have been driving like that. It was reckless, and stupid, and…”

Katara cuts off his apology with a hug.

“I forgive you,” she whispers.

“But, I —“

“I forgive you,” she repeats.

They go to dinner. Zuko seems shaken and pushes his food around without eating it.

“Zuko…” she starts.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me. Ever,” Zuko says in a strangled voice. “That’s what — that’s how my dad was.”

Katara reaches out her hand.

“You’re not like him, Zuko.”

“I look like him,” he whispers. “Except for the… you know,” he adds, pointing vaguely at his scar.

“Maybe,” Katara says. “But that doesn’t mean you’re like him. I know you would never hurt me. I know what kind of person you are.”

Zuko nods, but he doesn’t speak. They finish their meal in relative silence and walk back to their hotel. They get into bed almost fully dressed, holding each other until they fall asleep. The next morning, things seem to have righted themselves, and they continue their trip together.

— 

Their penultimate stop is in Gaoling to visit Toph. They pull the car up to Toph’s parent’s enormous estate. Toph lives in a guest house that’s twice as big as Katara’s family home. Toph had insisted on putting them up, and Katara and Zuko pull their car up to Toph’s gate.

“Yo, Sugar Queen! What’s up?”

Zuko raises an eyebrow.

“ _Sugar Queen_?” he whispers.

“Don’t ask,” Katara mutters darkly. 

She embraces Toph warmly, which makes her friend squirm. Toph is usually a fan of a punch on the arm in greeting, but on special occasions, she will allow hugs.

“Toph, this is Zuko,” Katara says.

“Hey,” Zuko says, nodding at Toph. He catches himself and makes a face.

“Just because I can’t see you, doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re giving me a bro nod right now,” Toph says, grinning.

Zuko goggles at her.

“How can you —“

“I know everything,” Toph says, grinning even wider. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

They set out for a nearby café that Toph knows well. Everyone there greets her by name, and she moves easily through the shop despite her blindness.

“This place is the best,” Toph says. “The tables are bolted down, so they’re always where you expect them to be. Plus, they make great falafel.”

Most of lunch consists of Katara telling Toph about her travels with Zuko while Toph cracks jokes. Afterwards, Toph leads them on a walking tour of the city, pointing out all the sights she cannot see.

“People say the architecture of this building is great, but no one seems to be able to describe it to me properly,” Toph says, waving at what Katara thinks is city hall.

“It’s got a lot of columns, I guess,” Katara says with a shrug. She’s never been much of a student of art.

“It’s got a neoclassical influence,” Zuko adds. “But they’ve gone for a lot of modern art sculptures in front of it. I think it’s the juxtaposition of the two styles that’s eye-catching.”

Katara stares at him and he blushes.

“My mom liked this type of stuff,” he mumbles, embarrassed. Katara kisses him on the cheek and beams up at him.

“Finally, someone uses their words,” Toph says, grinning. “Usually people just tell me it’s white, like that means anything to me.”

“Erm, how do you —“ Zuko stammers.

“I’ve touched models of buildings before. I know what columns and sculptures are, even if I can’t see them,” Toph says, waving away Zuko’s awkwardness. “Come on, now you have to describe the art museum to me because that really stumps everyone.”

Toph and Zuko make a funny pair, but Katara is gratified that they get along. As much as Katara loves Toph, the two of them do tend to get into fights if left alone for extended periods. Katara likes having a plan and being in charge, while Toph relishes any freedom she can get. Zuko is a good balance to the mix. Katara is distracted from her usual intensity and Toph reigns in her wanderings to chat with Zuko, with whom she seems to share many interests.

That night, Toph takes them to a concert hall to see one of her favorite local rock bands. Katara can hear the music thudding from outside.

“Here,” Toph says, and she hands them earplugs.

Katara bites her tongue. She’s been telling Toph for _years_ to protect her hearing, and it’s extremely difficult to refrain from a delighted “ _I told you so!_ ”

When they get inside, Toph makes a beeline for the mosh pit. Zuko looks alarmed.

“She’s fine,” Katara yells over the music. “This is her favorite thing.”

Zuko watches, astonished, as Toph hurls herself into the fray. Some people look alarmed — her diminutive frame and wide, glassy eyes make her look like a lost cartoon character — but many people recognize her and immediately jostle her to the side. Toph looks ecstatic and gleefully pushes them back.

As they walk home hours later, Zuko speaks, a little louder than usual, even with the earplugs having dampened some of the sound damage.

“I have to ask…”

“It’s the only place I’ve found where people don’t give a shit that I’m blind,” Toph says. “Everyone else acts like I’m going to fall to pieces if anything bumps into me, but not in a mosh pit.”

“Makes sense,” Zuko says easily, and Toph smiles, wide and unseeing.

—

Katara sleeps in the next morning and is unsurprised that Zuko is already out of bed when she wakes. She hears some distant noise and rouses herself to investigate.

The noise turns out to be a familiar one: the sound of Toph’s pottery wheel. Given that Toph’s family had made a fortune in industrial earthenware, Katara supposed that artisanal pottery was another way for Toph to rebel. But Toph had a true knack for the art, and she had made quite a name for herself within the community. She had refused for her designs to be mass produced by her parent’s company, which had given her even more credibility as an artist.

As Katara approaches, she finds Zuko sitting a few feet from Toph, watching her in awe. Katara knows the feeling; it’s like Toph can bend the earth into whatever shape she can imagine.

“That’s a new one,” Katara says, stepping into the room.

“Been trying this out for a bit,” Toph says, lightly tracing her fingers around the lip of an unusual pot. “Not sure if it’s what I’m looking for though.”

“It’s amazing,” Zuko says earnestly. Katara drops a kiss on his forehead for being extra cute.

“You like it? It’s yours.”

“Me? Oh, I — ” Zuko hesitates.

“I’ve got more than I know what to do with,” Toph says, waving a hand around her studio. “I’ll put it in with Katara’s gift when it’s done.”

“My gift?”

“Yeah, for graduating med school, dummy. I’ll send it to your place in Caldera City.”

“Zuko doesn’t live in Caldera City,” Katara points out.

“Matter of time,” Toph says breezily. “Now shush so I can focus on the clay.”

Katara leads Zuko to Toph’s small kitchen, where she sets about making scrambled eggs for all of them. Katara and Toph have a deal when visiting each other — Toph likes to spend as much money as possible on the condition that Katara makes breakfast. Toph had reluctantly admitted that Katara made the best eggs in the entire world, and ever since, Katara had insisted on repayment of all fun activities in the form of eggs.

“You know I don’t expect you to move, right?” she says anxiously to Zuko. “I mean, I know that’s what Toph was implying but —”

“I know,” Zuko says, cutting off her rambling. “I told her I was applying for jobs in Caldera City.”

“You are?”

“I will be,” he shrugs. “When I get back to Ba Sing Se. I’m not applying to jobs now when I could be spending time with you.”

“You know you don’t _have_ to move…”

“It’s time,” Zuko says quietly. “I’ve waited long enough to go back. It’s what I need to do.”

Katara pulls him into a kiss that turns heated. Zuko’s hands are up the front of her shirt by the time Toph strolls in, and Katara is very thankful that her friend is blind.

“Please tell me you did not just have sex in my kitchen,” Toph says, sitting down at the small table.

“Of course not!” Katara says indignantly, but Zuko snorts with laugher, ruining the effect. Toph’s trademark grin is back. Katara rolls her eyes, but she is thankful that her friends tease her about Zuko because they like him.

That afternoon, Katara and Toph go to a spa as their tradition dictates. Zuko seems very happy to be left behind with a good book and quiet while the girls go to get mud masks.

“Don’t you have enough mud on you all the time?” Katara asks as they change into fluffy white robes.

“Never enough mud in the world, Sugar Queen.”

After a massage and facial, the two of them relax in the shade of a poolside cabana.

“Zuko seems cool,” Toph says with deliberate casualness that does not fool Katara for a second.

“What do you mean?”

“What? Can’t I compliment your boyfriend?”

“…We haven’t exactly used that word yet.” 

“Why not?”

“You’re the first person we know who’s seen us since we’ve gotten together. It’s not like we’ve had to introduce ourselves to anyone. I haven’t been going around asking ‘hey, have you met my boyfriend, Zuko?’ I guess there just hasn’t been a need to define it.”

“But you want him to be your boyfriend, right?”

“Yes.”

“ _And_ he’s moving to Caldera City for you.”

“No, he’s not,” Katara says quickly. “The job market is better for him there. And his sister is there, and she’s not doing well. I just… happen to also be there.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Toph says skeptically. “I guess you haven’t told him to love him yet, either?”

“No.”

“But you _do_ love him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Katara turns to face Toph, despite the fact that Toph cannot see the look on her face. “Why are you so interested?”

Toph shrugs.

“I like this guy. You seem really happy with him. You’re my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

Katara feels a twist of emotion. It’s rare for Toph to say something so sentimental, and it makes her feel a little choked up.

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me now, Sugar Queen,” Toph warns. “I just think it’s super obvious he loves you, and you guys should just go be in love and all that crap. I mean, you guys had sex in my _kitchen_ this morning.”

“We did not!”

Toph bursts into laughter and Katara can’t help but join in. 

“But seriously, where’s the craziest place you guys have had sex on this trip?”

“Toph!”

Eventually, Toph wheedles out plenty of tawdry details from Katara and they return from the spa, giggling. Zuko seems amused but a bit wary of their silliness, and busies himself with making dinner with Katara. Toph insists of scrambled eggs for dinner as well.

Before they leave the next morning — after one last round of eggs — Toph pulls Katara into a bone-cracking hug.

“Call me when you’re all moved in and I’ll send you your present. Oh, and call me when you tell Sparky over there how you feel.”

“ _Sparky_?” Katara asks, amused.

Toph shrugs.

“The way you describe him, he sounds super hot. Plus, he’s part of the crew now. I gotta give him a nickname.”

Katara pulls Toph into one last hug, and they set off.

“Last stop, Serpant’s Pass part two!”

—

Their initial plan had been a brutal nine-hour drive from Gaoling to Ba Sing Se, but they decide to break it up with another trip to Serpent’s Pass. They had enjoyed their first trip so much, it had seemed a shame to drive through the area and not stop.

Serpent’s Pass is even better the second time. Spring is in riotous bloom, and the warmer temperature means that Katara switches out her hiking pants for shorts. Zuko seems to be particularly appreciative of this change, and more than once they get distracted on a hike. Katara will now have to amend her reveal to Toph of the ‘craziest’ place she had sex to the fringes of a public picnic area in a national park. 

It’s the last full day of their trip, and Katara is starting to feel a little down about returning to real life. As much as she is excited for the next phase of her career — moving, starting residency, seeing patients on her own — she will miss crawling into a tent with Zuko every night.

They reach the peak of their hike and they set down their packs to snap a few pictures. 

“Want a snack?” Zuko asks. 

He holds out a bag of Goldfish crackers. Katara blinks at him.

“I thought we ran out of Goldfish?”

“We did. When you were with Toph at the spa, I went out and got more for you.”

Katara grabs Zuko’s collar a pulls him down into a searing kiss.

“I love you,” she gasps as she pulls away.

Zuko’s eyes go wide. Katara must admit, she had not been planning on professing her love over cheese crackers, but it doesn’t make her feelings any less true. She waits nervously for Zuko to find his voice.

“I love you, too,” he says, and he pulls her in for another kiss.

The Goldfish crackers are forgotten for quite some time. When they pull away from each other — they can hear other hikers approaching, which is the only reason they both manage to keep their clothes on — Katara forces herself to eat some the crackers, but she isn’t really hungry. Excitement is bubbling through her, and she spends the whole hike down blushing and grinning at Zuko every few minutes. He returns her smiles and caresses, and Katara is glad that none of her friends are around to see her acting quite so lovestruck. It is very fun, but she knows she and Zuko must be annoyingly radiant right now.

The rest of the day feels infused with a light airiness that Katara has never really felt before. When she tells Zuko about the feeling over their nightly campfire, he admits to feeling the same way.

“It’s nice though,” he adds. “I like it.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Me too.”

“Thanks for inviting me on this trip, Katara.”

Katara laughs.

“I should be thanking you for coming,” she says.

Zuko’s eyes darken, and a furtive look steals over his face.

“You’re the one that’s going to be coming,” he says, and he presses his lips to hers, winding his arms around her.

Katara melts into him, and they stumble back to the tent for a modicum of privacy. Their fun doesn’t take very long — both of them have been keyed up since their hike — but it is extremely satisfactory. Afterwards, Zuko lies half on top of her, panting.

“I love you,” he rasps in her ear.

Katara wraps herself around him like an octopus, hugging him close.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you, Zuko.”

He hums happily against her. Katara marvels at how far they had journeyed together — hundreds of miles in the car, of course – but somehow this, really _being_ together, had felt even farther.

It had certainly been worth the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! A little epilogue coming in the next week. Stay safe and healthy everyone!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be a one shot and, as you can tell, it got away from me a little. Much fluffier than I originally anticipated, too, but perhaps we all need a nice fluff piece these days. Enjoy!

If Katara hears ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ played one more time, she’s going to lose it.

The downside of being one of the last names alphabetically means that she has waited through graduation after graduation for her name to be called, always the last to enjoy her big moment. Sokka teased her about this — he had never minded waiting and joking around at the end of the line — calling Katara’s graduations her ‘diva moments.’

Now, she tries not the bounce anxiously to look for Sokka and her dad in the crowd. She knows they must be strategically located for a good view, but she can’t see them as she approaches the stage.

Finally, her name is called and she walks across the stage with as much confidence as she can muster. A piercing whistle rises above the crowd, and Katara grins. She follows the sound instinctively to find her father, tall and proud, with Sokka whooping at his side. Just next to them are Zuko, clapping with enthusiasm, and Iroh, who gives her a little wave. She feels a lump rise in her throat, wishing her mother could be there, too, but she holds it together to shake hands with the dean and takes her diploma back to her seat. 

After a few more moments of ceremonial pleasantries, the crowd rises and Katara and her classmates scatter to find their families. Sokka finds her first. He hoists her up in the air, still whooping with delight.

“Yeah, that’s my sister!” he crows as Katara shrieks with laughter. He sets her down, grinning. “Congrats, Katara.”

“That’s _Doctor_ Katara to you,” she says smugly.

“We are so proud of you,” her dad says, enveloping her in a big hug. “Your mother would be, too.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Katara whispers, misty-eyed.

She turns to spot Zuko and Iroh standing at a respectable distance to give her family some privacy. Katara launches herself at Zuko. He laughs as he tries to stay upright.

“Congratulations, Katara,” he says in his warm, rasping voice.

“Thanks!” she says brightly. She’s eager to kiss him, but she knows that public displays of affection make Zuko a little uncomfortable, especially in front of her family. She had introduced Zuko as her boyfriend to her dad and Sokka a week ago over a videocall. It had gone about as well as expected, meaning that her family had been polite enough to wait until after she had hung up to run a full background check on Zuko. He had been tentatively accepted by them; Katara suspected that Suki had helped lay plenty of groundwork to prime Sokka for this development.

Katara reluctantly pulls away from Zuko to give Iroh a hug.

“You will make a wonderful doctor,” Iroh says, beaming at her. “I am very lucky to have been among your patients. Although my nephew is the luckiest one of all.”

Zuko goes red, but Katara laughs and smiles.

“I’m the lucky one, Iroh,” she says with a wink at Zuko.

“I’m starving,” Sokka says loudly. “Katara, can we go to that pho place you’re always talking about?”

They spend a companionable meal all together; Hakoda and Iroh dive into deep conversation, while Sokka recounts Katara’s most embarrassing childhood stories to an amused Zuko. Sokka makes Zuko choke on his noodles more than once.

“I like this guy,” Sokka says in an aside to Katara. “Good sense of humor.”

Katara rolls her eyes, but she is secretly relieved that her father and Sokka seem to approve of Zuko. She can tell that Zuko is relived, too — he knows how important her family is to her. She had spent the week trying to assure Zuko that everything would be fine, but she knew that he hadn’t believed it until he actually met her father in person and they shook hands.

“So,” Hakoda says to Zuko, interrupting Sokka’s retelling the story of Katara getting them both stuck in ravine. “My daughter tells me that you are moving to Caldera City soon.”

Zuko swallows, shooting Katara a slightly nervous look before answering.

“I’m trying to. I’ve got a few job interviews lined up. If they go well, I should be there in a month or two.”

Katara surreptitiously holds Zuko’s hand under the table while her father continues to grill him about his work and plans. She knows her dad is being polite and is genuinely interested, but his deep voice and intense stare always makes him sound much more serious and judging than Katara knows he really is. Fortunately, once he is done questioning Zuko, Hakoda leans back and gives him a smile.

“Well, I hope the interviews go well then. I know that Katara will miss you until you move.”

Katara beams at her father. She knows she doesn’t _need_ her father’s approval, but it is nice to have it.

The next few days are a blur. Sokka and her father stay in town two more days to enjoy Ba Sing Se and help her pack up all her stuff. Most of it goes into the same suitcases she arrived with, as she decides to sell all of her cheap furniture. She ships ahead a crate of kitchen items, books, and winter clothes. 

After her family leaves, she spends one last full day with Zuko before her flight to Caldera City. Iroh throws a little party in the tea shop, and Katara gorges on delicious sesame buns.

Zuko drives her to the airport in silence. Katara tries to pretend that she’s not crying, but Zuko can tell and holds her hand when there isn’t too much traffic.

It’s stupid — Zuko will be in town in two weeks for his interviews, and she’s certainly gone that long without seeing him before. But they’ve been glued at the hip since they had started dating, and she was going to miss him terribly. She knows she should be enjoying this last moment with him, but there’s nothing fun about saying goodbye at the airport.

As she settles into her seat on the plane, she pulls out her phone to send Zuko one last text. She knows he is probably already back in Ba Sing Se traffic, so she’s not really expecting an answer.

“Is this seat taken?”

Katara blinks. She knows that voice.

She looks up, astonished, as Zuko grins at her from the aisle. He slides himself into the middle seat.

“Surprise.”

“How…You… What are you doing here?” she stammers.

“I got a last-minute interview for tomorrow, and I thought I might as well join you on your flight.”

“When did you…”

“I booked my flight three days ago. I thought about telling you, but I told uncle first and he thought I should surprise you. Said it would be more romantic.”

“It is,” Katara breathes, and she pulls him into a searing kiss. When she pulls away, Zuko looks sheepishly at the people still boarding the plane, who are eyeing them with amusement. But he turns back to her and draws her into another, softer kiss and she melts with happiness.

“I’m only staying for a few days,” he explains as they buckle themselves in. “But I thought I could help you set up your apartment. I got a hotel room we can share until you buy a bed.”

“Thanks, Zuko,” she says, leaning into him. He wraps a warm arm around her shoulders.

They head to their new city together.

—

Two months pass, and Zuko has still not officially found a job. There have been two offers, but neither was a great match.

“You worked at a shitty job for the last three years,” Katara tells Zuko. “Don’t settle for another one just to be here with me. You’ll find something soon.”

Still, she does miss him. She takes on extra work to distract herself. It’s on one of her extended shifts that she first meets Azula.

During Zuko’s visits for job interviews, he often spent a few hours visiting his sister. Sometimes she was manic, other times depressed, and it always upset Zuko. He had tried without much success to talk to her about options for getting better, but he had been frustrated by her lack of interest. Katara knew that he had told Azula that he had a girlfriend in the city, but he had steadfastly refused to let them meet. Katara was unsure if this policy was intended to protect her from his sister’s moods, or to use the promise of meeting Katara as an incentive to get Azula on board with medication. Either way, it seemed extremely unlikely that Zuko would ever introduce them at this rate.

Katara is making her rounds one afternoon when a fellow resident stops her, a curious look on his face.

“You’ve got a friend waiting for you at the welcome desk.”

“A friend?” 

All of her friends in Caldera City were doctors and nurses in this hospital — she hadn’t had much time to meet people outside of it yet — and any of them could easily find her without waiting at the welcome desk. None of her other friends, like Aang, Suki, or Toph, would visit without giving her at least a day’s warning.

Her curiosity piqued, Katara goes to the front desk and stops cold. There is a young woman tapping a foot impatiently, arms crossed. She is impeccably dressed. Katara is no fashion expert, but even she recognizes the red soles of Louboutin heels. The outfit of tight, dark pants, a coat made of what could be actual fur, and enormous, oversized sunglasses complete the look. Her blood red nails drum absently against the fur of her jacket. Katara has one very good guess of who this could be and she steels herself for the interaction.

“Hello,” she says as neutrally as possible. “Can I help you?”

The woman’s lips curve into a smug smile.

“So you’re Katara? Well, I see why my brother is so taken with you. If you can manage to look that pretty under this terrible fluorescent lighting, I suppose I’d move halfway across the continent for you, too.”

Katara tries not to react, a pleasantly blank expression glued to her face.

“I’m sure you know who I am,” the woman says haughtily. “Or has my brother not told you about me? Maybe he’s ashamed of his little sister.”

“I know who you are, Azula.”

“Good,” Azula says, although she does not sound particularly satisfied. Katara assumes that Azula had wanted to make a big impression, but Katara is determined to give her as little response as possible. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” Azula says with an affected shudder. “How about we go get a coffee? Get to know each other… a little girl time, you know?”

“I’m working a shift right now,” Katara says, still purposefully neutral. “I can’t go get coffee.”

“Can’t you call in sick or something? I mean, this is your first time meeting me. Don’t you want to make a good impression? I could be your sister-in-law someday.”

“I can’t leave work, Azula.”

Katara can see Azula getting visibly agitated. Patients and doctors passing are giving her curiously glances. She needs to find a way to get Azula out the door.

“Ugh,” Azula says, annoyed. “I guess I see why Zuzu’s told me so little about you. You’re _boring_.”

“I have to get back to work, Azula.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Azula spits angrily. “I’ll just tell Zuzu you kicked me out then, shall I? That’s what you’re trying to do to me right? Looking down on me because I’m not some fancy doctor like you… well, I’m smarter than you could even imagine. I found you, didn’t I? All Zuko did was let slip your first name, and I found you just with that. I even found out when you were working this shift.”

As Azula rants, Katara notices one of the security guards draw near. He watches Katara, waiting for her signal if he needs to step in. Azula, upset as she is, still has the wherewithal to notice.

“I see I’m not wanted,” she says, her voice cold as ice. “Well, I’ve got better things to do than rot in a stupid hospital.” 

She spins on her perfectly polished heels and struts away.

“Tell Zuzu I send my regards,” she says over her shoulder.

Katara lets out a deep breath and nods to the security guard.

“Someone I should watch out for?” he asks quietly.

“Please,” Katara says. “Although I don’t think she’ll be back again.”

Katara is right; Azula does not return to the hospital. She tells Zuko about the incident and he explodes in anger and worry — he apologizes profusely that Azula had found her — but Katara does her best to calm him.

“I’m okay, Zuko. Really, it’s fine.”

“It is _not_ fine,” he growls. “Azula is unpredictable and she’s smart. If she tries to hurt you…”

“She won’t.”

“You don’t _know_ that, Katara.”

“Statistically speaking, the odds are low.”

“I don’t care about statistics, I care about _you_!”

“I know, Zuko,” she says soothingly. “I know.”

—

In the end, Katara is right about this, too. She doesn’t see Azula for another three months, by which point Zuko has found a job and moved to Caldera City. He lives in tiny, one bedroom apartment equidistant from his job and the hospital. At the end of a long shift, Katara often heads to Zuko’s apartment instead of her own; there’s usually delicious, home-cooked meals based on Iroh’s recipes in the fridge, and there are no roommates to make noise while she sleeps.

One day, however, Katara wakes up from her post-night shift nap to hear the key turning in the lock. Confused on why Zuko would be returning to his apartment at 2PM on a Tuesday, she rolls over to check her phone. No texts from Zuko.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

Katara sits up. Azula is standing in the doorway to the bedroom, looking worse for wear. Her red nails are chipped, her sunglasses askew on her head. The Louboutins looked a little scuffed, and her coats hangs heavily off of her thin frame.

“Azula, how did you get in here?”

“Where’s Zuko?” 

She seems not to have heard Katara’s question. To be honest, Katara doesn’t need it answered. From what Zuko has said, she would not put it past Azula to have had a secret key made, or found a way to charm the doorman and pick the lock.

“Zuko is at work. It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Will he be back soon?”

“Probably in a few hours.”

Azula turns and walks away. Katara grabs a pair of sweatpants from Zuko’s closet and follows her. Azula is curled up on the couch, her eyes wet.

“Azula?”

“It’s happening again,” she whispers. “I don’t want it to happen again.”

“What’s happening?”

“I’m going away,” Azula says, staring vacantly at the wall. “I don’t want to go away. I want to be me, I want to _do_ things. But now… I’m so tired, and it’s hard… it’s hard to keep going.”

Katara’s heart sinks. She has never actually observed a patient slipping between manic and depressive episodes — she’s usually just seen one of the other — but it’s painful to watch Azula fighting it. Katara can see how desperately Azula is trying to cling to her manic persona.

“Zuko can help me,” Azula whispers. “He said he wanted to help me.”

“He does want to help,” Katara says, crouching into Azula’s line of sight. “But you have to want to help yourself, too.”

“It will change who I am,” Azula says, a last bit of defiance still lashing out. “I’m fine when I’m _up_ , I just need to stop the _down_.”

“You’re not fine when you’re ‘up,’ Azula. Remember? You came to confront me at work. That’s not something a healthy or happy person does.”

Azula shuts her eyes, as if Katara has slapped her.

“It’s not going to work. This is the way that I am. Nothing can make me better.”

“How do you know that if you don’t try?”

Azula refuses to speak any more, staring blankly at the wall. Katara decides to try to play something calming on the television, but it’s unclear whether Azula is absorbing anything at all. At the very least, Katara finds it helpful to hear the cheerful commentary of the ‘Great Ba Sing Se Bakeoff’ as she sneaks into the bedroom to call Zuko.

Zuko arrives thirty minutes later, clearly upset. Katara places a hand over his chest before he steps inside.

“Deep breath,” she whispers. “Stay calm.”

Zuko glares at her for a moment, but then takes several deep breaths. Katara lowers her hand.

“Thanks,” he whispers. “I needed that.”

Katara gives him a kiss on the cheek. Zuko moves to sit in front of Azula.

“Hey, Zuli. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I don’t feel good,” Azula says. “I think it’s the flu.”

“You know it’s not the flu, Zuli.”

“It’s the flu.”

Zuko sighs. He moves to get up, but Azula shoots out a hand to stop him.

“It’s not the flu,” she whispers, sounding terrified. “Please. Help me, Zuzu.”

Zuko’s expression breaks Katara’s heart into a thousand pieces.

“Of course, Azula. Anything.”

It takes a bit of doing, but between Katara’s circle of medically-affiliated friends and coworkers, and the still sizable fortune of Zuko’s family, Azula is transferred to an inpatient facility. It is a rough start, as Azula almost immediately decides to escape, but daily visits from Zuko eventually persuade her to at least try listening to the doctors and therapists. Eventually she transfers back into her regular life, Zuko and Katara holding their breath.

Katara thinks that Azula needn’t have worried about her medication changing her. Azula has enough personality for a small army, and dampening the extremes of her moods does little to change her overall character. Azula is still smug and self-important, but she also reveals a generous nature, with the caveat that her generosity is flashy and attention grabbing. She sends Katara an enormous bouquet of flowers on her birthday, and donates a sizable chunk of money to the pediatrics unit. This worries Zuko — reckless spending had always been a hallmark of Azula’s bipolar disorder — but Azula waves him off.

“It’s for tax purposes, big brother. I’m keeping to my budget, and I just got paid handsomely for some truly exceptional freelance work, if I do say so myself. And, unlike Father, I actually pay my taxes, although I do share his dislike for them. So I choose to spend my money on things I deem valuable to society and take the tax cut.”

“And you think my pediatrics unit is valuable?” Katara asks, smiling.

Azula stares at her.

“You’re saving children’s lives, aren’t you? Of course I think that’s valuable; I’m not a _monster_. Besides, I feel a little guilty about sending Zuko to that hospital when we were kids and I dared him to jump out of that window.”

“Okay, that’s the second time I’ve heard reference to this story. I need to know what actually happened.”

“No, it’s so embarrassing,” Zuko groans.

Azula looks delighted, and perks up in her seat.

“Zuko was seven and I was five. We had just been sent to our rooms for trying to steal mangoes from the neighbors yard…”

—

When Katara’s lease is up at the end of the year, she bids goodbye to her roommates and moves in with Zuko. There’s the usual adjustment period — she discovers that Zuko never makes his bed and he discovers that she sings loudly in the shower — but it’s wonderful to come home to each other at the end of the day. 

They host friends who come visit — Aang crashes on the couch for a week in the spring, and Toph comes out for a weekend in the summer. Suki and Sokka come out for a rowdy weekend of karaoke and hours at the oyster bar. Katara and Zuko also split their holiday travel, half in Ba Sing Se to see Iroh, and half on the Southern Water Tribe Reservation. 

Katara is nervous for Zuko to visit her home, but, in his own anxiety about their visit, he volunteers to help out as much as possible, which endears him to the village elders. Zuko’s most sought-after skills are with computers, and he goes door-to-door for three days, helping families install the correct cables and connect to their online accounts. He holds a seminar for the elders on how to use FaceTime, and all the town grandmothers gush to Katara over what a nice young man she has chosen.

“Look, I can call my grandson on Gaoling now! That young man of yours taught me how. And he even wrote me instructions on how to get all my passwords if I forget. Such a nice boy.”

Katara smiles sweetly, and goes to find Zuko. She grabs the keys to the family pick up and drives him out on an abandoned road and shuts off the engine. She steps out of the car and Zuko follows her to the back to the truck.

“What are you —?”

Katara presses herself against him forcefully. Zuko gets the idea and moves his hand under her shirt. Katara had briefly toyed with the idea of throwing something soft into the back of the truck to lie down on, but she didn’t want to give away her plan. Besides, she likes it standing up. 

They writhe against one another in the silence of the desert, panting as they pull at their clothing. Katara unfastens the front of Zuko’s jeans and swoops in, bobbing up and down as Zuko groans in pleasure. She doubles her efforts, his hard cock sliding easily between her lips.

“Can I fuck you?” he gasps as she teases him.

She pulls away, nodding and hastily unbuttoning her pants. Zuko teases her clit until she is squirming against him, gasping his name. She turns away, gripping the bed of the pickup as he enters her. It’s moments like this she’s glad she’s switched to an IUD — she really would not want to have to drive back a used condom in the family car, and there’s no way she’s littering out here.

Zuko groans as he sinks into her fully, and she takes the lead. She slides herself back and forth, looking over her shoulder as she rides his cock. The dim moonlight illuminates his face, which is slack with pleasure. The large scar across his left eye is softened, and he gazes at her through heavy eyelids.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

“Mmm,” Katara says happily. “I wanted to thank you for being such a great boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” he says, slightly out of breath. “And here I thought you just wanted to get fucked out in the open. That’s what you like, isn’t it?"

Katara gives a little shiver. She _loves_ when Zuko talks to her during sex. The rasp in his voice, the heat, the passion…

Zuko grips her hips, seizing control and picking up the pace.

“I should be the one rewarding you,” he rasps as he pounds into her. “ _Agni_ , I love you, Katara.”

She gives a cry of pleasure, but Zuko does not relent. He keeps a steady pace, the heavenly friction of his cock pressing against her until she is shouting his name as she comes. She is glad she is gripping the edge of the truck; her knees go weak from the force of her orgasm.

Zuko slows until she catches her breath, and they repeat their dance. Katara slides up against him, canting her hips, until Zuko, frenzied with desire, grabs hold of her again, whispering delicious things in her ear.

“ _Agni,_ I love having your ass pressed up against me. Love holding you like this while I fuck you.”

Katara can’t help it. Zuko’s voice undoes her as always, and this time he joins her, coming with a loud shout in the empty desert. 

They stay entangled for a few minutes, breathing heavily.

“Mmm,” Zuko hums happily against her neck. “That was a nice treat.”

“You deserve it,” Katara says as she pulls away. “Seriously, I know teaching every grandmother and grandfather in the village how to retrieve their email passwords isn’t what you had in mind for a vacation…”

“It’s nice, actually,” Zuko says, shrugging. “They give me cookies.”

Katara laughs, her joy ringing into the empty night.

—

As their careers and lives move forward, Katara and Zuko travel as frequently as their busy schedules allow. It has been a long time since Zuko has had any unused vacation days.

This particular trip is to Ember Island, specifically to the neighborhood where Zuko’s family had once owned a home. The home itself had been seized when Zuko’s father had been arrested, but Zuko had admitted that losing the house had not been a huge emotional loss.

“It’s been a long time since my family was happy there. If we ever really _were_ happy, that is. I do miss the beach access though. There was a great reef nearby.”

They spend their days hiking the island’s trails, snorkeling at the beach, and reading in their tiny bungalow’s hammock. In the evenings, Katara throws together simple dinners while Zuko fiddles with the fire pit in their yard. She carries out the dishes to join Zuko on the bench next to the fire. He looks over at her and smiles.

“So, our vacation is almost over,” he says. “That means we get to plan our next one.”

“Hmm… how about another road trip?” she asks, reaching for his hand.

Zuko gives her a fond look that, even after years together, still makes her heart flip.

“You think you’ll want to be stuck in a car for that long?” he asks, his hand dropping to her expanding belly.

“Okay, maybe a short road trip,” she amends. “But something fun before this guy shows up and messes up our lives.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be the confident one in this relationship,” Zuko says jokingly. “I’ve only ever held those fake baby dolls at that class we had to go to.”

“Oh, I know we’ll be able to keep him alive,” Katara says, rolling her eyes. “But I’m going to miss having you all to myself. Once the baby comes, he’s the boss.”

“I know,” Zuko says, dropping a kiss on her head. “It will be okay.”

“I know,” Katara says, although she feels a flutter of anxiety. Not for the first time since she became pregnant, she wishes desperately she could ask her own mother for advice. What did the road ahead look like? How would she navigate it?

“We’re still a team, Katara. We’re in this together. We can do this as long as we have each other.”

Katara smiles at him, sliding into his arms.

“Yes,” she agrees. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! More to come :)


End file.
